Brothers At War
by Phoenix of the Air
Summary: When a child's life is in danger, Eomer faces a rocking revolution within his kingdom. Legolas, on the other hand, faces a race against time as a child's life hangs by a thread, One wrong move, and the brothers go to war... RESUMED. Please read and review. :)
1. Prologue

**Author's note:**

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings._

**_Please note: _**_This may be a little darker in tone than "Over Time, We Are Brothers"._

**~S~**

**Prologue:**

A lone figure stood at the edge of forest, slightly away from the camp he had made. The fire cast a red glow at his back.

Clad in green and brown that he always preferred, the figure kept his gaze lowered. The stars above him made his golden hair look tinged in silver. He wore no cloak; he had used it to cover the child under his care.

Legolas stared at the ground. The green grass was dark in the night. He could hear the animals of the night scurrying about the forest. There was a fox nearby, wondering if the child was worth the assault, but the animal retreated when it noticed the attentive figure that was obviously an adult. Above him, an owl hooted in a the trees. There was a sound of scratching over the uneven ground as a rabbit darted into its burrow, safe from the predators.

Legolas gave a sigh and looked up. The stars were there, scattered on the black sky and shining down upon him. He saw Earendil, the evening star and the moon that shown brightly down on him.

Legolas raised his hands up and uttered words from his lips that showed the distress in his heart, "Earendil!" He cried. "Would that my brothers were beside me in my time of need! Would that Gimli were here, if no one else could come to my aid!"

But the star remained silent, and Legolas knew he was on his own, with an ailing child.

**~S~**

_**Author's note:**_

_Cryptic, I know. But bear with me. :)_

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	2. The Offer Not To Be Refused

Chapter 1

_Earlier…_

_The Golden Hall,_

_Meduseld, Rohan._

"You want me to do what?" Legolas asked in disbelief. The elf had just been taking a sip from his goblet. Now the goblet was forgotten in his hand, his eyes boring into his sworn brother.

Éomer sighed and patiently repeated his words, slowly this time, as if he was talking to a child.

"I said; it has been months since Elfwine has seen his cousin Elboron and his friend Eldarion," Éomer spoke, naming the sons of Faramir and Aragorn respectively. "The winter festivals will soon start in Gondor in a little more than a month's time. I think it would do him good if he journeys to Gondor to meet them."

"I already heard that part." Legolas snapped. "It was the following request that I would like to be repeated."

Éomer grinned at his sworn brother and decided to humor him. He said, "My idea was that you would be the one to escort him from here to the forest of Ithilien."

"Continue," the elf growled, putting down his goblet. He is going to need his senses to hear the rest of it.

"And since both Lothíriel and I are needed here, we will be leaving him to travel with you alone." Éomer finished. The Rohirric King leaned back comfortably, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he waited for it to sink in.

"Are you not going to attend the festivals?"

"Of course, we are!"

"Then why not bring Elfwine with you then?" Legolas demanded.

"I believe he would like some time to play with his cousin and friend before the entire festival starts."

"Bah!" Legolas said, not believing. "I know you two. You both probably want some time to yourself."

Éomer wanted to deny it but Legolas' eyes did not miss much. The King gulped, unable to say a lie.

He was saved by his family. Elfwine, an energetic young boy of seven summers, was playing Denethor falling off the Citadel.

The boy gave a triumphant yell as he launched off the high table. Lothíriel shrieked and lunged after him, successfully grabbing the child before he could hit the floor.

"Mother," the boy complained. "You ruined my fun."

"Fun," Lothíriel repeated, aghast. "That was fun? How could that be fun?"

"I am jumping off the Citadel. See?"

Lothíriel shuddered at the ill humor. The Queen knelt and placed her hands on the boy's slim shoulders.

"Elfwine," Lothíriel said sternly. "That is not funny. Your granduncle was not himself and you must understand his position with reverence. Jumping off imaginary citadels is not what he would have wanted."

"But Mother-"

"I do not want to hear another word of it."

"But-"

Legolas grimaced.

"You want me to take care of that thing?" Legolas asked, keeping his voice low as he jerked his thumb in the direction of the arguing set of mother and son.

"That thing is my son." Éomer chided mildly.

"I refuse."

"I agree that he is somewhat spirited-"

"Spirited? He is an absolute menace!"

"That is untrue."

"Really? Did he not put a live rat in his tutor's stew?"

"An unfortunate accident…"

"What about the time when he placed frogs in his nurse's bed?"

"Oh, that one…"

"And the time when he released angry rabbits in the Golden Hall right in the middle of dancing?"

Éomer chuckled. "That one was absolutely hilarious. All the women were trying to keep their dainty toes away from the rabbits."

"I do not think you are being a good father by laughing at your son's irresponsible exploits."

"Legolas!" Éomer protested, laughing outright. "He is only a child!"

Legolas grunted and did not reply. He crossed his arms and sank in his chair, trying hard (and being successful at it) to keep his amusement from showing.

Truth be told, Legolas was not that averse to the idea of escorting his sworn brother's child to Ithilien. And he did not dislike children as he claimed. The truth was pure and simple. Legolas never knew how to go about with children. Elflings matured faster than the children from the Race of Men. They were easier to talk to, easier to relate to. But mortal children seemed to be stuck at one mental age. They age slowly in that aspect. Oftentimes, Legolas found it tiring. At other times, he simply did not know what to say.

So Legolas had always stayed apart, watching from a distance. He loved the children of his sworn brothers dearly, but because he did not know what to say, he kept his distance. The children, in turn, found him intimidating, even though they had seen the elf joke and laugh with their fathers. If they ever had to choose, they would choose Gimli or the other members of the Fellowship over the elf.

"Éomer," Legolas said, becoming more serious. "I do not know if it is a good idea. None of the children, particularly Elfwine, is close to me. I do not know if it would be wise to-"

"Do not be silly." Éomer scoffed. "You are a Prince. You slew many an orc and many a troll. You downed an oliphaunt in the War on your own. Are you afraid of a boy of seven summers and half your size?"

"To put it mildly, yes." Legolas replied wryly.

"Coward,"

"Barbarian."

"Flittering elf,"

"Annoying mortal."

Éomer snorted. "That the best you can do?"

"I cannot think of a worse insult." Legolas drawled.

Éomer smirked and was about to retort when Lothíriel stormed up to him. The Rohirric recoiled at the sight of his furious wife.

"Your son," Lothíriel snapped before stomping off.

"I recall he is yours too." Éomer grumbled, staring after his wife's leaving figure.

"I heard that!" Lothíriel called from the corridor. Legolas chuckled softly.

"It would be wise not to say anything further." Legolas murmured softly.

"Hm," Éomer grunted. "Elfwine! Come, lad. It is off to the bed for you. You need a nap."

"But papa-"

"No buts," the King said, lifting his son in his burly arms.

"Coming, Legolas?"

"I will refuse." Legolas said, laughing as he raised his arms in a truce. "You tuck in your son by yourself."

"Traitor," Éomer said to him.

"I am not in your allegiance in the first place." Legolas retorted. "We will meet again in the evening."

With a quick wave and a smile, Éomer and Legolas parted. The King went to the nursery and Legolas headed outside.

The elf loosened his collar as he stepped out of the large doors of the Hall. He offered a smile to the door wardens before coming to a stand at the edge of the raised platform.

Ten years of peace did wonders on everyone and every kingdom. Gone was the silence and the despair that had descended upon the people of Edoras during the War. Life went on; he could hear the children's gay laughter as they raced each other on the streets. The wildness of the grass was tamed into small gardens. The men walked unarmed and with a relaxed pace, taking the moment to enjoy their surroundings.

This was reflection in Gondor as well. There the people also had recovered from the war. Peace reigned. True, there were occasional uprisings from the East, and at times they would discover nestings grounds of orcs as well as wargs.

And yet ten years of constant peace was trying on Legolas. Ever since he had heard the gulls calling him to the Sea, he had been restless. Long terms of peace did not settle well with him. True, he had made himself useful from time to time by training boys for the Ithilien Rangers, occasionally carrying out negotiations. Such life though did not care the thrill and excitement of a travelling did have a certain charm on its own.

The past two years were enough to make his teeth clench. Simpering ladies of the court, guarding his tongue from ever-vengeful noblemen, the quant and lengthy protocols that were observed in Gondor were starting to stifle Legolas. he became more and more secluded in his domain in Ithilien, but as a friend and personal advisor to Aragorn, he could not stay away from court on no definite grounds.

Finally unable to bear it anymore, the elf made up a ridiculous story starting somewhere from an unknown dwarf and ending somewhere at the unknown lands of the East.

"You are rambling," Aragorn had commented wryly, knowing that even Legolas did not know what he was saying. "But you can go. And enjoy yourself, eh? I have loads of assignment waiting for you."

"Wonderful," Legolas said dryly, winking as he left the King's study.

Still, that was some two months ago. Legolas had been enjoying his stay here in Rohan. There was no stifling rules and regulations, and he definitely did not need to keep a smile for those whom he frankly had neither the respect nor the good regard for them.

But the two months vacations (or escape was the word both Faramir and Aragorn had preferred) was unfortunately coming to an end. There were still two weeks left when Éomer then approached him to take his son to Ithilien Forest.

A sudden crash jerked his thoughts back to the present. Turning, he noticed that one of the women had been coming up the steps, bearing a large bucket of water. The bucket must have been heavy, for it had lost balanced and fell over the steps.

Legolas turned and took the steps.

"Here, let me." He murmured, bending down to take the bucket before the maid reached for it. He straightened with his burden and the maid looked at him fully. She gasped in horror.

"My lord prince! I cannot- His Majesty will be furious-"

"I doubt he will be angry if I take up a fallen bucket." Legolas said wryly, easily stepping back when she reached for it.

"He will not want me to be helped by such an esteemed guest. A royal carrying my bucket-"

"All this fuss on a bucket," Legolas interrupted, laughing pleasantly as he climbed down the steps. "I assure you, your king is not so finicky that he would lose his temper over a bucket. Come! Tell me which well you used. I will fill it and carry it for you."

The maid gave up arguing and followed him quietly, giving directions along the way. They had found the well and Legolas filled it. When he picked it up again, he recognized the maid.

"I remember you." Legolas said slowly. "I believe you are Elfwine's nurse."

"I am, your highness."

"I do not seem to recall your name." Legolas said, turning to walk back to Meduseld.

"Hilda, your highness." The maid replied, following him.

Legolas glanced at her. The maid was more of a girl, really. She was somewhere between sixteen to eighteen summers.

"Are you not too young for your work, Hilda?" He asked. He started to climb the steps.

"I may be young, but I can keep up with His Highness' mischiefs. The boy is adorable underneath his lively ways. He does not tire me."

Legolas took in the sight of the fresh-faced and red-headed girl and smiled. "I can believe that."

Hilda led the elf through a side door to one of the many, large kitchens of the Golden Hall. It was hot and humid like always. Hilda gestured at a table.

"You may put the bucket over there."

Legolas placed the bucket carefully on the table, then caught sight of two eyes and a small figure beneath the tablecloth.

"Well, by your leave, I had best go and check on Prince Elfwine, your highness."

"His father put him to bed." Legolas said quickly, not wanting for the boy to get into trouble for being out of bed. He situated himself firmly in front of the table to hide a certain someone underneath the tablecloth.

"But-"

"Why don't you take some time off, Hilda?" Legolas interrupted, comfortably crossing his legs at the ankles as he leaned back on his hands on the table. "I am sure you do not have much time for yourself as you look after the heir to the throne."

"Oh," Hilda stuttered, surprised. "It is not that much of a problem-"

"I insist."

"Oh, very well, but if there is a need-"

"I will inform Her Majesty the Queen." Legolas said smoothly, straightening. He placed his hands on the girl's shoulders, turned her about and escorted her outside the kitchen door.

"Enjoy yourself, now."

"Oh, I will." Hilda replied, still confused at the outcome. Legolas gave her a bright smile before closing the door. She stood bewildered in the corridor.

Legolas turned back and noticed the solemn gray eyes that regarded him from underneath the table. What was Elfwine doing out of bed? Legolas wondered. He frowned, trying to think of a reason. He did not realize that the boy shrunk back in slight fear, mistaking the frown to be for him.

Suddenly getting an idea, Legolas went into the pantry and took out a large piece of apple pie that the cook had made earlier in the day. He placed it on a plate and returned to the kitchen. Legolas placed the plate on the floor near the table and retreated to the door.

"Enjoy the dessert." Legolas murmured. "And keep this between us."

With that, Legolas left. But as Elfwine settled to eat his unexpected snack, the boy realized he just might have an ally.

oOo

In the evening, Éomer threw a particularly large feast in Legolas' honor.

"I know what you are doing." Legolas commented wryly, settling comfortably in his seat beside Éomer's throne. "I will not be swayed by your kitchens' excellent meal."

"I am merely being courteous."

"You are committing bribery." Legolas retorted, cutting the chicken that lay in a pool of spices and honey and shifted a part of it into his plate.

"You certainly are not complaining." Éomer replied, chuckling as Legolas chewed the piece of chicken.

"I still know what you are doing."

"Hush up, the both of you." Lothíriel said crossly. "Éomer, do try not to spill your drink. My lord, do not talk with your mouth full."

"Yes, Mother." Éomer and Legolas chorused. It was not the first time they had been chided by the Queen. It was a mother's tactic. The words were actually for Elfwine, but the boy would only listen if his father (and his uncle, if there were any present.) were chided along with him.

When it was roughly an hour into the feast, Lothíriel turned to her son and said the ritualistic words, "You look tired, little one. Time for bed."

"But I am not sleepy." Elfwine protested. Contrary to his words, the boy rubbed his eyes that had been drooping shut.

"Well, you can play for an hour before you go to bed, but you have to go now. Say good night to your father and uncle." Legolas grimaced. He had been introduced to all of his friend's children as uncle. He knew none of them considered him one.

"Good night, Father. Good night… uncle." Elfwine mumbled the last words, climbing into his father's arms. Éomer kissed the boy's head.

"Good night, my son. Sweet dreams."

"He does not bear much love for me." Legolas murmured as he watched the boy go.

"He does." Éomer answered smoothly. "All of them do. The trouble is, they do not know what to do with you as you do not know what to do with them."

"I do not know where to start then."

"Start by accepting the thought of taking him with you would be nice." Éomer said, grinning.

"You know, Éomer, you are just as annoying as a Gondorian advisor."

The king gave a booming laugh and settled back to enjoy the entertainment.

As night wore on, the ale was freely flowing and the people were getting more rowdy when Legolas deemed it was time to leave.

He got up from his place, smiling a little at the servants who hurriedly picked up his utensils before it could be used as ammunition by any drunken rider.

He quickly weaved in and out of the crowd until he reached Éomer and Lothíriel.

"I take my leave." Legolas said, bending down to speak in his sworn brother's ear.

"Already?" Éomer asked in surprise, turning to look at his friend. "Getting tired in your old age, Legolas?"

"At least I am not withering away in smoke and drowning myself in ale." Legolas quipped, his words dripping in sarcasm. "I prefer not to see the men I hold in great esteem drunk and sprawling on the ground. I will see you tomorrow." He added, ignoring Éomer's laughter.

"Rest well, or whatever it is you plan to do tonight." Éomer said, clapping on the elf's wrist in farwell. Legolas smiled and nodded at the Queen in farewell before quietly slipping away.

Elfwine's rooms were in his way. Out of sheer habit (and maybe because of a little bit of protectiveness on his side), the elf glanced into the open door before walking away.

He stopped.

From the gaping doorway, the elf saw Elfwine fast asleep. The boy had kicked off the covers in his sleep, his hands tightly holding a favorite wooden toy that Éomer had carved out for him. The boy was obviously cold; for he was shivering in his sleep.

Smiling softly, Legolas gently opened the door a little more and entered. He picked up the covers from the floor and eased them around the young boy. Then he knelt by the fire and added some more wood.

"_Sleep well, little one." _Legolas murmured softly, bending down and pressing his lips on the crown of the boy's head. _"You will be playing with your friends in the coming month, under the trees of Ithilien."_

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_So Brothers At War officially starts. I want to develop a few characters, especially Elfwine before the story takes its flow._

_Stay tuned._

_Reviews are very appreciated._


	3. A Fond Farewell

_Author's Note:_

_err, is anyone still reading this?_

**~S~**

Chapter 2

"Éomer?" Legolas asked.

"Hm?"

"I am going to kill you. Nay, I am going to murder you."

"You will widow Lothíriel?"

"Oh, I will provide for her and your son. I am sure she wouldn't regret it."

"Peace!" Éomer cried, laughing. He purposely missed Legolas' annoyed expression. "Brother, you look as if I am sentencing you to death."

"In a way, you are!" Legolas burst out. "I admit that I was satisfied with taking Elfwine with me but nobles for travelling companions… oh, Éomer, the agony-"

Éomer was laughing all the while Legolas moaned over the fact that he will have nobles for company.

"Rohirric nobles are quite different than Gondorian nobles, Legolas. You know that. You yourself have said that you would prefer their company."

"Within four walls with luxury and hot water for a bath, perhaps, but out in the open, they are all the same regardless where they come from. Do you have any idea what it will be like? No water for a wash except the cold rivers coming from the mountains. Ai, two weeks of utter pain and torture before reaching Minas Tirith-"

"I will make it worth your while." Éomer promised. He shrank back a little when he saw him glare.

"Oh, I am sure you will! I hope you enjoy this alone time with your wife because once you arrive at Minas Tirith, I am going to abandon you with Arwen's daughters. They want to go to the carnival taking place during the winter festivities and cannot do so until a notable guest head appears. You are going to take them."

Éomer grimaced. Arwen's daughters, no matter how beautiful and adorable, talk so much that they drive all the males insane, no matter they be men or elves, including their own father.

"And that is not a request." Legolas added.

Éomer grinned in spite of the fact that Legolas was still scowling at him.

"As long as you can live with nobles and an active boy for two weeks on the road, then why not?"

Both Éomer and Legolas stared at one another, each wondering who would laugh first. Then Éomer noticed the upward twitch of Legolas' lips and knew he had won.

"Fine, Éomer, but just this once-"

"What makes you think I am only going to request just one time?" Éomer interrupted.

"What makes you think I will not have you do anything for me in return?" Legolas asked in return.

"I call a draw!" Éomer said, laughing. "I have missed these talks, my friend."

Legolas only smiled.

When they had met for the first time on the fields of Rohan during the War of the Ring, they had not gotten along well. But after the War, when Rohan was at its lowest, Legolas stayed as Éomer's advisor. The two developed quite a friendship from that point. It was not a quiet, companionable friendship as Legolas shared with Faramir, but rather a boisterous kind full of playful insults and banter.

"Éomer, I still do not think it would be wise to take Elfwine with me." Legolas said, becoming more serious.

"You know, for someone who is teaching boys archery back in Gondor, you are very reluctant on taking Elfwine."

"That is because he is not just any boy, Éomer! He's your son-"

"Now that is an insult." Éomer commented dryly.

"I did not mean it that way-forgive me. It is just-" Legolas sighed and looked out of the window. "He is your heir, Éomer. I am unfit to look after him. should anything happen-"

"I only trust you with him." Éomer declared, uncrossing his legs and coming up to stand beside Legolas. "It is precisely the reason why I trust you with Elfwine. I know you worry for him. and that is why you will keep him safe."

"You place too much trust in me, brother." Legolas said quietly, looking away from the honesty and truth in Éomer's eyes. "I do not doubt my fighting prowess, but a child's life. Trust me with anything, but not with a child's life."

"You speak as if there is danger coming!" Éomer said, his voice booming in his laughter. "Come, come, Legolas! Ten years of peace. It is time to move on! Come, we will lay down the finer details of your travel."

Éomer walked out of the room, leaving Legolas alone by the window.

Ten years of peace, Legolas thought as he turned back to the window. If this peace was long lasting, then why wasn't Legolas' heart at peace? Why did he feel like there was a storm coming?

Shaking his head to free himself from dark thoughts, Legolas turned away and left the room.

oOo

Legolas was certain he was going to get a marvelous ribbing when he went back to Ithilien. His aloofness with children was legendary among the elves and even among the men who knew him well. So coming home with Elfwine after a long travel of two weeks will raise quite a lot of eyebrows and erupt a lot of loud chuckles. Legolas stifled a grimace. He will find no peace once he returned.

True, he did teach boys archery from time to time as a guest mentor, but that was entirely different. He rarely ever spoke to the boys outside of the archery range. If there was any child he was significantly close to among his sworn brothers' children, then those were probably Faramir's child Elboron. The boy was quiet as his father and Legolas had practically seen him grow in front of his eyes.

In his last few days' stay in Rohan, Legolas resigned himself to the fact that he will be going with Elfwine and his complete escort from the Riders to the nobles and their families. He was not uncomfortable with the nobles. No, he was fine with them but that did not mean he actually enjoyed the fact that he would have to spend two complete weeks… Legolas stopped the thought. He was only going to upset himself further.

For a moment, an image flashed in his mind, of nobles coming to Minas Tirith stinking of travel and weather and he grinned.

"Why are you smiling?" Éomer asked, looking up from his paperwork.

"Oh, nothing," Legolas replied nonchalantly, ducking his head as if he were poring over the charts.

"You know, it has been four days and you are not moaning over me about taking my son."

"I have accepted it."

"Indeed?"

"Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye."

"Good, because you will be taking an entire escort of éored with you," Éomer said.

"Éomer!" Legolas growled.

"I thought you said you are fine with it."

"You know, I am going to ignore you from now on."

"Does that mean I can say anything I want?"

"I am not listening to you."

"You smell of a rosebush whenever you come from a bath."

"I am still not listening to you."

Éomer grinned. This is going to fun.

oOo

In spite of Éomer's words, Legolas soon realized that the company travelling with Elfwine was surprisingly small. There were two families of nobility travelling with him. One was a pair of husband and wife. Both were elderly and kindly, with a full-grown, adult and married daughter. They were a jolly lot, and easy-going. Legolas knew he would find it easy to travel with them. The other family consisted of a widowed mother and her full-grown two sons. Elfwine would not have a playmate during the travel.

He was, however, very relieved to find that Hilda would be travelling with them. "Do not misunderstand," Legolas had told the girl. "You are always welcome to travel individually but I am grateful to know that someone with more strength and energy will be with Elfwine."

"What he means is that he is getting slow in his old age and his old rickety bones cannot handle carrying him too far." Eomer called out from where he was doing his paperwork. Legolas rolled his eyes and hilda only smiled shyly.

Travelling with them was a sturdy group of eighty Riders, forming an éored. Éomer introduced him to the Captain. The Captain's name was Calhoun. He was grim-looking, with a military stance and an eye patch over one eye. He was alert and his gaze was true. Legolas knew at once that he would be a formidable force to reckon with.

"Calhoun, I am sure you know of Legolas Greenleaf from the Woodland Realm." Éomer had said when introducing each other.

"No one cannot not know the elf from the Fellowship." Calhoun rumbled.

Legolas brought his hand forward and Calhoun clasped it. He looked up at the man's steady gaze and felt the firmness of his hand shaking his own.

"I see that my reputation precedes me." Legolas said aloud.

"Indeed, it does." Calhoun replied, still holding the elf's gaze. "Excuse me, I am needed elsewhere. Your majesty, my lord."

"Call me Legolas." Legolas said absently. Calhoun merely bowed his head and left.

When he did so, Legolas turned his head to Éomer and said. "I had not met him before. And none of the Riders of this éored, for that matter. Why is that?" Legolas had travelled extensively through the Kingdom of Rohan when he came to Éomer as an advisor in his second year of reign.

"Oh, he and his men are from the Eastfold. That is probably why you never met them. You never went to the Eastfold, remember?"

"Ah," Legolas said in understanding. Then he frowned. "Still, I would have enjoyed Éothain and his éored's company more, merely because of the reason that I know them well."

Éomer looked up from his work.

"I would have sent for them but they are making their yearly rounds around the kingdom." Éomer said with a touch of apology.

"Éomer, I was not implying that you should have sent for them instead. You have trust in these men-"

"I do."

"And that is enough for me." Legolas said smiling. Éomer leaned back in his chair to regard the standing elf.

"You know," Éomer said at last. "I am going to miss you when you leave. It has been a long time since someone has not been so easy with me."

"I will tell Lothíriel you said that. She will have your hide."

Éomer grimaced. He could imagine his wife rounding up on him, demanding what she had been doing all along.

"On second thought, forget I said that."

"Oh, no. I finally found leverage against you."

There was a pause.

"Legolas, you would not dare."

"Try me."

oOo

The wagons bearing their supplies were ready by the end of the week. Legolas only had to pack a few things in his saddlebags. His longing for the Sea had left him with a state of restlessness that could only be assuaged if he traveled long and wide. So, all of his sworn brothers were quite unaffected if he suddenly turned up on their doorstep. As such, Faramir, Gimli, Éomer and Aragorn all had kept a room or a set of rooms for him complete with few of his clothing and accessories. That meant that he could travel with little things and still expect to live comfortably when he reached his destination. He was not fussy, as he always made himself useful wherever he went so as not to impose on his host. Sometimes, he even turned up at the Halflings' doors at the Shire, so even the hobbits were well-prepared for his unexpected visits. None of them minded, because they all understood that his restlessness had left him in such a state.

Making his final arrangements in his saddlebags and checking around to see if he had forgotten anything, Legolas went to equip himself. While in Ithilien, he opted for a single knife but when he travelled in the Wild, he chose his twin knives and his bow and quiver. Tightening the belt of his quiver, he grabbed hold of his flat pouch and slipped its buckles onto his belt around his waist. The pouch was a different sort, one of the main parts of the Eryn Lasgelen Ranger's uniform. It contained vials of poison and their corresponding antidotes. The poisons were from various roots and plants that were native to Eryn Lasgelen, and the antidotes had come from there as well. In the pouch on his belt, the poisons were in their most concentrated and lethal form but there was another pouch deep within his saddlebags that had less dangerous forms of the poisons but in larger quantity. Still, they were potentially dangerous; that is why they were a closely guarded secret.

Adjusting his cloak by pushing it back from his shoulders and tightening the belts of his quiver and knives, he checked if his movement was unhindered and was satisfied that it was not. He bent to pick up his saddlebags and walked out his rooms.

One of the servants noticed him and stopped him to take his saddlebags. Legolas did not protest. He had learned now that he was Éomer's friend and famous for his race and for his personality, that it would be futile to argue.

"Slinking away without saying farewell?" Éomer called out to Legolas when he entered the Main Hall. Lothíriel stood beside the King, smiling.

"I cannot 'slink' away if I am in the Hall, now can I?" Legolas retorted, allowing himself to be pulled in an embrace by Éomer. The King laughed and slapped Legolas playfully on his back. Legolas winced, partially from the blow and also from the uncomfortable feel of his quiver and knives digging into his back.

"Easy! Easy!" Legolas said, pulling away. "You will break my back, quiver, bow and knives until they are nothing but a heap!"

"Ugh!" Lothíriel cried, looking disgusted. "That was terribly said!"

Legolas only smiled and bowed over Lothíriel's hand.

"Do me a favor." He told the lady when he straightened. "Make his life an utter misery for me, would you?" Legolas asked, jerking his thumb towards Éomer, who made a hurt expression.

"Oh, I intend to." Lothíriel replied, ignoring Éomer's squawk of protest.

"Come," Éomer said, placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Let us see that horse of yours and see you off. The sooner you leave, the happier I will be."

After another turn of farewells with the queen, Legolas left with Éomer to the stables. Éomer stayed outside the horse stall as Legolas went in to greet his mare. It was a lovely mare, with a black coat and mane and a white sock on her left foreleg.

"What is her name?" Éomer asked.

"Tinúviel," Legolas answered.

Éomer looked at Legolas sharply. Legolas stared back at him, lips twitching upwards in mirth, his eyes daring him to comment.

"Why Tinúviel?"

"I did not name her." Legolas protested, laughing. "Elboron saw her when I brought her in to train her and said she looked like Tinúviel and named her so. And since she," he gestured at the mare, "did not protest, I said nothing."

"What do Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan think of this?"

"Oh, they were quite speechless to find out their ancestor has been compared with a horse, but Elboron was quite insistent."

Tinúviel butted the elf gently as Legolas whispered words to her in elvish. She then playfully whisked her tail at him, hitting him full in the face when he bent to check her legs.

"Little minx." Legolas muttered, straightening and tugging gently on her forelock.

"Quite the playful creature," Éomer remarked, laughing when Tinúviel turned her head and grabbed the ends of Legolas' hair in her teeth. Legolas had to stop abruptly.

"And very maternal," Legolas remarked, reaching up to tickle her just beneath one of her ears. She released with a delighted whinny and Legolas straightened again.

"I do not mean to sound surly but where is Arod?"

"Arod is a fully capable horse but he is a warhorse. I needed a horse less conspicuous to suit my needs. You forget I am a Ranger of my people. Warhorses suit well in open fields and not for Ranger work. In fact, that was one of the things I wanted to speak to you about. I think Arod should be brought back here. You may need him for the breeding session and he will suit more with the Riders than in Ithilien, where Rangers live."

"We will speak of it when I get there for the festivals." Éome promised.

Legolas led his mare out into the open courtyard. He turned just in time to see Éomer regard him doubtfully.

"What is it?"

"I am not forcing you into this, am I?" Éomer asked.

"Aye, you are." Legolas replied bluntly but in an amused voice. "What a thing to ask just before I am leaving!"

"Well-"

"Do not fret." Legolas said sincerely, when he noticed that Éomer was truly asking. "I do not mind, really."

"Well, if you say so."

"I do."

They looked around to see the éored was ready. The wagons holding the nobles' luggage were already facing the gates. The carriage for the women and Elfwine was there as well.

"Any last regrets?" Éomer murmured to Legolas. The elf peered up at the raised platform where Lothíriel was saying farewell to her son.

"How did I get into this mess?" Legolas asked. Éomer chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.

In a short while, the women went into the carriage. Hilda was holding Elfwine's hand, though the boy was not excited in spending the ride in a closed, hot space.

"Can't I ride like the men?" Elfwine pleaded.

"You are too young, Elfwine." Hilda said.

"Maybe Legolas can give you a ride now and then if you ask him nicely." Éomer suggested. Legolas whipped around to start glaring at his sworn brother but he stopped when he found himself staring in the boy's golden-brown eyes. The boy widened his eyes pleadingly.

"Very well," Legolas said resignedly. Elfwine gave a whoop of joy and entered the carriage happily.

Éomer chuckled.

"I will get you for that." Legolas told him.

"Promises, promises,"

Once the wagons and the carriage was ready, Legolas and the éored mounted as well.

"Remember," Éomer said, patting Tinúviel's neck. "You are the main protector of my son. All the decisions will be made by you. I told Calhoun as much." Legolas nodded in reply.

Calhoun spurred his horse to the head of the line, shouting, "We ride! We ride! Go forth, Éorlingas!"

Legolas joined them in the thunder of hooves, the carriage and the wagons following close behind. In spite of the sound of the hooves, Legolas' sensitive ears picked up Elfwine's excited chatter.

He sighed. This was going to be a long travel.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Eeek! Do not kill me!_

_I am sorry for the late update, it is just that when I focus on one story, I forget there are others as well. I saw 14 followers and I thought that I must be horrible to leave you guys hanging like this. *helps everyone up*_

_Reviews are very much welcome. :D_

**_List of OCs:_**

_Hilda: 'battle maiden'. She is the nursemaid of Elfwine. A young girl of 16-18 years._

_Calhoun: 'warrior'. He is the captain of the eored that travels with Legolas._

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_1monster2: It takes place roughly ten to twelve years after "OTWAB". :)_

_ilovevollyball: haha, thanks. updating. though i do not know if someone is reading this still._

_brankel1: thanks. :)_

_witch cat warg: I have to admit I did not understand what you mean and for that I apologize. But thanks, I guess. :)_

_aronoiiel: Very, very true! I hope the story stays good though. :D_


	4. Last Touch Of Innocence

_Author's Note:_

_As flattering as it is to know that there are 16 followers, why not post a review? Anonymous reviews are welcome and it is kind to know that work is appreciated, especially when the author has to do research for the story. _

_A simple 'good' can also suffice._

**~S~**

Chapter 3

Half an hour into the ride, with Edoras still in full view, Legolas' bane (otherwise known as Elfwine) started his torture. Elfwine had to relieve himself. When Hilda told called out to him through the window of the carriage, Legolas merely raised a brow at her.

"He went just before we left." Hilda defended herself.

So the entire éored, packhorses, wagons and the carriage itself came to a full stop for the small boy. When they returned to the waiting company, Hilda purposely did not meet the elf's eyes, knowing that she would burst out laughing if she saw his despairing look.

There were other such setbacks during their ride. They had left in the morning and would not stop till the afternoon. From the carriage, he heard snatches of chatter of the women and Elfwine's voice sometimes rising in complaint. But Hilda-bless her- had taken some of Elfwine's toys with her into the carriage and soon Legolas heard a mock battle taking place in the carriage.

Since he did not know the éored well, most of the ride passed in silence. This particular éored was too silent, and perhaps (if Legolas was willing to admit it), surly.

However, in his heart, he could definitely see that travelling with company was slow but enjoyable. He was not pressed to be anywhere at the moment, and the thought of someone erecting his tent and giving him cooked food was not something he would object to.

"You need a wife." Faramir had once joked with him. Legolas had only glanced down at his betrothal ring on his finger and smiled sadly. After that, none of his brothers mentioned it again.

His darkening thoughts immediately disappeared as he heard a shout from the carriage. Legolas glanced up at the sun to check the time and sighed. It had only been two hours since he was called. Well, Elfwine was learning quickly. He gently spoke to his mare and she trotted to the carriage.

"Somebody bellowed?" Legolas asked dryly, pulling the curtain behind. He heard titters of female laughter, with the only elderly noblewoman smiling kindly at him. She was the only one who noticed how pressed the poor elf was with the constant calls from the carriage. He was chivalrous still, not once did he grimace and say an unkindly word.

Almost at once, Elfwine's face popped up by the window.

"Can I come for a ride?" Elfwine asked hopefully. Legolas glanced inside to see Elfwine's wooden toy soldiers and horses scattered on the floor.

"Tired of playing with your toys already?" Legolas asked. Elfwine pouted.

"Father said that you would take me for a ride if I asked. I asked and you promised."

"After we stop for the midday meal," Legolas promised. "But not before."

Elfwine looked upset. Éomer's words came echoing back to him.

_He is just a child._

Legolas reached up and touched the boy's nose with his fingertip.

"Now, now, none of that. Play with Hilda. We will be stopping by soon enough."

With that, Legolas let go of the curtain and gently nudged Tinúviel forward. For a moment, Legolas gave a private grin. Legolas is riding on Tinúviel, oh- why did he let Elboron name her?

Tinúviel tilted her head and caught the elf's amusement. She whinnied in query.

"_Your name is quite peculiar, nightingale." _Legolas answered vaguely, patting the horse along the length of her neck.

He reached where the other noblemen were riding. The elderly man was Cynric, who looked at him the way a grandfather would look at his toddling grandson. The other two noblemen were brothers, by the names Key and Kinnell, hardened and grim from the War that took place ten years ago.

"Is everything well here?" Legolas asked, bringing his mare alongside their horses.

"Oh, you need not worry about us." Cynric said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "You have enough on your plate with our prince."

The men chuckled and Legolas gave a small smile. Obviously his galloping to and fro from the carriage did not go unnoticed.

"If you do not mind my asking, why have you planned to travel earlier than the royal caravans?" Legolas asked.

"My wife Glytha and I would like to settle in Ithilien now." Cynric replied. "You see, we are very old now and the Riddermark has very sad memories for us. we have lost all of our families during the War. Ithilien is said to be taking in new people, and a life there will be a comfortable one."

"Your domain is also Ithilien, is it not, Master Elf?" Kinnell asked.

"Aye," Legolas replied, smiling. "You will be welcome there, Lord Cynric and also to my city if you ever wish to visit it."

"It would be wonderful, indeed." Cynric replied. "It is said that the elves' cities hold a beauty one cannot even imagine. I would enjoy that very much."

"And what of you?" Legolas asked the brothers.

"We have good living here." Key answered. "We will stay with our mother here where we control the herds on our lands. We merely wish to pay our respects to our father, who died on Pelennor Fields."

"Ah," Legolas said quietly. "I apologize."

"There is no need; you could not have known."

They chatted as they rode, and Legolas quickly started to relax a little. There were occasional calls from the carriage until the last leg of the first ride. Legolas strongly suspected that the elderly lady, Glytha, must have silenced Elfwine from making any more fuss.

They stopped for the afternoon to eat and to rest the horses. Legolas contemplated the idea of joining the éored but decided against it. Was it just him, or did the éored seem… suspicious of him?

Shaking his head to chase away the thoughts, Legolas joined the noblemen instead.

Once they had stayed for an hour or more, they were back on the road. As promised, Legolas sought out Elfwine and took him to his mare.

Legolas mounted his horse and reached as Key lifted Elfwine up into the saddle.

"I wish I could be in Elfwine's place." He heard the woman whisper, loud enough to reach his ears. Legolas flushed. Key looked up, his eyes glimmering in amusement. Hilda gave out a peal of laughter, soon followed by Glytha's chiding.

"That is enough, girls. Teasing that poor elf…"

"You seem to have quite an effect on women that I would have wanted." Key told him.

Legolas urgently prodded his mare to move forward, his ears burning. He absolutely _refused _to stay and listen to laughter at his expense.

Elfwine sat stiffly in front of Legolas in the beginning, unsure whether he was allowed to lean back or not. Legolas noticed and stifled the feeling of hurt. He noticed that the boy was holding a wooden horse in his hand and was making it gallop slowly, as if afraid that the elf would notice and tell him to put it away.

Legolas ducked his head.

"That is a very nice horse." He said softly. "Who made it for you?"

Elfwine peeked up, startled.

"Father did." He replied hesitantly, unsure what the elf was up to. "He is my favorite horse."

"Ah," Legolas nodded, with a tint of seriousness. "Does it have a name?"

Elfwine nodded, looking more comfortable now.

"Firefoot," Elfwine answered confidently.

Well, it was a better name than Tinúviel, Legoas thought inwardly.

"Ah, and what is Firefoot doing now?"

Elfwine perked up and started to chatter.

Legolas settled comfortably on the saddle and listened. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was doing but he did know that he just wanted to start a conversation. Apparently, what he did was correct, the boy chattered away, holding up the horse as he did so. Legolas listened as attentively as he could, and smiled a little as he finally felt Elfwine relax into his arms.

And so it went. Legolas used small acts to make the boy comfortable with him. He usually stayed in the prince's tent to watch him play with his toys. At other times, he kept his distance, unsure what to do when the child was throwing a tantrum. One time, Legolas caught Elfwine running out of his tent with no clothes on. Torn between bafflement and amusement, Legolas caught him cleanly and deposited him back to a thankful (and tired) Hilda. Another time, he found the boy fast asleep by the camp fire. Hilda loitered around, unsure how to carry a healthy child of seven summers back to the tent. He came to her aid, and did so. When he leaned down to place the child in the cot, Elfwine instinctively reached up and caught hold of his clothes. Stunned for a moment from the act and also from the unwavering trust that Elfwine had placed in him, he stared down at the prince. Then he lowered him down and gently untangled the boy's fingers from his tunic.

Seven days later of such travel, Elfwine was somewhat comfortable with him. The boy still tried to avoid him as much as possible, but at least did not run off with an excuse if he somehow found himself with the elf.

They had taken the Great West Road. Legolas knew that it was a short ride if he had been alone and on horseback. And he certainly knew that after a week of travel, they were certainly too far behind. When he asked Calhoun, the captain gave him a confused look.

"It will take as at least twenty days more to reach Minas Tirith." The Rider said and then spoke no more. At that, Legolas realized that Éomer had misinformed him.

When the Rohirric King comes to Minas Tirith, he will strangle him, Legolas swore as he fumed. That Rohirric knew full well that Legolas only agreed because he thought the ride will only be for two weeks!

Still, Legolas could not help but give a small smile as he heard Elfwine's joyful shout from the carriage.

Three days later, they were still in the region of the Eastfold and traveling along the Entwash. They did not stop by any towns or villages but kept moving. One thing Legolas was really thankful for was the fact that Éomer kept in mind that he had no love of crowded caravans and kept their number as little as possible. It would have been more difficult if that had been the case.

When they camped at night, Legolas dismounted and reached for his saddlebags. As he did so, Tinúviel stepped away.

"_In a playful mood, again, are we?" _Legolas said, smiling a little as he reached for them again. Tinúviel stepped away again. Legolas frowned. _"That is enough, nightingale. Let me have them." _This time when she dodged his hand again, she let out a distressful whinny.

"_What is the matter, girl?" _Legolas asked gently, patting her neck to ease her fears. But she shook her mane and stepped away. _"Easy, easy! As you wish, I will not take my bags from you. But at the very least, can I check you? Maybe there is a reason behind this behavior." _

Tinúviel soothed down enough to allow the elf check her legs. She was fine, from what he could tell. So, that probably meant that she sensed something. He did try once more to take his bags but she utterly refused to give them up. Sighing, Legolas admitted defeat. Patting her one more time to show that he was not angry, merely disappointed, he turned away.

He went to his tent once it was erected. Settling his bow and quiver within easy reach, he sat down on his cot. His dual knives soon join them and he lay fully clothed on the cot.

He was troubled, to say the least. Tinúviel had been his constant companion for the last few years and it surprised him to see her behave as such. Any man would have dismissed it, but Legolas was amongst those who held a belief that animals were much more sensitive to danger than elves or men. And Tinúviel was no fool.

Sighing, he closed his eyes.

_~I sense restlessness in you, little one.~_

Legolas' lips twitched upwards.

_~I thought you said that one should never invade other people's minds, father.~ _Legolas retorted.

Thranduil's laughter vibrated through the link.

_~Ah, but that does not apply to me when I speak to my own son.~_

_~You know, you and Lady Galadriel are quite similar in some aspects.~_

_~Do not compare me with a Noldo!~ _Thranduil scoffed.

_~Still holding past grudges, I see.~_

_~Still as impudent as ever, I see.~ _Thranduil replied.

Father and son chuckled.

_~I miss you, father. It has been a long time indeed since we last met face to face.~_

_~Come here, then. Your restlessness made you travel everywhere to your friends' houses and yet you did not come to your father's halls where you were raised.~ _Legolas sensed a rebuke in his father's voice.

_~I apologize, father.~ _Legolas promised, sounding humbled. _~I will come.~_

_~Where are you, lad? There is something different about your location.~_

_~I am traveling in form of group to Minas Tirith.~_

_~With men? You never like to travel in groups, much less with men and I always had to force you to take an escort. Why are you traveling in a group?~_

Legolas' unease was quite apparent.

_~Well, I am escorting Éomer's son to Ithilien.~_

There was a moment of silence after which Thranduil's laughter rocked the mental link.

_~You,~ _Thranduil choked, thoroughly amused. _~You, the Prince of Eryn Lasgelen, who is well-known for his aloofness and dislike for children-~_

_~I never dislike children.~ _Legolas interrupted.

_~You are escorting a child! Ai, this is priceless.~_

_~I am glad you found it amusing, father.~ _Legolas said, breathing heavily. Apparently, his ribbing starts before he reaches Ithilien… and by his own father!

_~I really must congratulate Éomer. He did the impossible here. How did he manage to convince you?~_

_~He blackmailed me. He mentioned the plan in front of Elfwine and the boy was insistent. After that, I could not refuse.~_

_~I am most impressed.~_

Legolas remained silent.

_~You are very uneasy, my son. What is the matter?~_

_~My mare refused to let me take my saddlebags from her.~_

_~And is that bad?~_

_~She never did it before and she sounded as if she was frightened.~_

_~Hm,~ _Thranduil was thoughtful. _~Maybe you should be a little on alert tonight, my son. It may be nothing but it never hurts to be sure.~_

_~You do not think I am acting foolishly, are you?~_

_~Quite the contrary, lad. Danger comes in the forms of tiny waves before becoming a storm.~_

_~But it could be nothing.~_

_~Aye, it could be nothing.~_

_~I should probably go and see what Elfwine is up to.~_

_~Elfwine?~_

_~Éomer's son.~_

_~Ah. Elf-friend, I see. A powerful name, powerful indeed.~_

_~What did that mean?~_

_~Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing at all.~_

_~You know,~ _Legolas said, sounding exasperated. _~You are starting to sound like Mithrandir. He used to drop hints and then say it was nothing.~_

_~Mithrandir.. ah, the wizard who started that meddlesome affair with the dragon.~_

_~Father, there is something wrong with you. Really.~_

_~Is there?~ _

Now, Legolas was truly worried.

_~When was the last time you slept? Or ate?~_

_~I cannot really recall.~_

_~Father!~ _Legolas cried. _~Where are you at the moment?~_

_~In my study.~_

_~You are too dedicated for your kingdom! Get some rest, I implore you!~_

Thranduil chuckled.

_~You know, you are probably correct. Come back to me, my son, whenever you can.~_

_~Wait, you have forgotten something.~_

_~I have?~_

_~Aye, I made a promise to Arwen that you were coming to Minas Tirith for the Winter festivals, remember?~_

_~Boy!~ _Thranduil growled, sounding more like himself.

_~Ah! There is the voice of my father. Now I really must go. We will speak again soon.~_

_~Oh, we will. You and I need to talk about making promises behind my back.~_

Legolas chuckled as he broke off the link, smiling when he felt his father's last wave of love through it.

Getting up from his cot, he hesitated and then equipped his weapons again. For some reason, he was painfully aware of his surroundings.

Leaving the tent, he nodded at the women around the campfire before making his way to Elfwine's tent. There was a guard standing there at duty.

"I am only here to see the prince." Legolas said, before entering the tent.

The guard barred his way.

"The prince is asleep, my lord." The guard replied evenly.

"Oh, I do not intend to wake him up anyway." Legolas replied.

He moved forward but stopped immediately, as he felt something sharp and dangerous press against his side. He looked at the guard again, who was smiling coolly at him.

"I suggest you leave, my lord." He said. Legolas raised an eyebrow. What was this? He privately wondered. Had Éomer left too strict orders, or was this man overstepping his boundaries?

Whatever the case, Legolas knew here he had to exercise his right as a military commander and not as a royal.

"Perhaps, I had not been clear." Legolas said conversationally. Then, he drew one of his dual knives faster than the eyes could see and held it at the guard's neck. "Move," Legolas hissed.

Immediately, the guard's eyes widened in shock and he moved back. Legolas smiled and placed his knife back into its sheath.

"Good man," he said, thumping the guard on his shoulder and entered the tent. He did not see the guard's satisfied, smug smile.

Elfwine was fast asleep, his darkening locks splayed about him. The boy clutched onto his toy horse-Firefoot- in his sleep. Legolas smiled, his features softening as he reached forward and tucked the blanket more securely about the boy.

"_Sleep well, little one. Uncle is here to protect you."_

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Last warning. This story has a darker nature to my previous stories. You have been warned._

_As pressed as I am for time, I cannot reply to reviews for this chapter. I am very sorry but please know that I have read and appreciate everyone who took the time to review._

_Reviews are always welcome._

_Specials thanks to ilovevollyball, aronoiiel, Sandy-wmd, and branke1 for their faithful reviewing! :)_

**List of OCs:**

Cynric- "with royal might", an elderly nobleman accompanying Legolas

Calhoun- "warrior", captain of the eored accompanying Legolas

Hilda- "battle maiden", Elfwine's maid

Gytha- "gift", elderly noblewoman and Cynric's wife,

Key- "leader", nobleman, accompanying Legolas.

Kinnell- "crowned", brother of Key, accompanying Legolas.


	5. Traitors In The Dark

Chapter 4

There was someone outside his tent.

Legolas' eyes shot wide open, and then he closed them again. He made sure his breathing remained steady and listened to the whispers outside his tent.

"Kill him before he makes one move."

"He is asleep. He will not be hard to take out."

"You underestimate him…"

Fingers on one hand crept slowly to the blade hidden underneath his pillow till it touched the hilt. His dual knives and quiver and bow were within reach but still far enough to alert the intruders of his awakened state. He listened.

There was scuffling on the left side of the flap; there was one intruder, possibly holding a spear from the sounds of the wood digging into the earth. The other was lifting the flap, a ringing sound of metal on metal indicating his sword. Two intruders total; Legolas privately smiled. They will not be a problem.

He had initially meant to only disarm them until it was clear who they were. The intruders on the other hand, had completely different ideas.

As he rolled off his cot with his hidden knife in hand, the man holding the spear embedded it straight where he had been lying a moment before.

A knife in a sword and spear fight, Legolas thought grimly. Fantastic!

With one man currently unarmed and the other swinging his sword in wide arcs, Legolas momentarily kept his stance, inching appropriately to keep a safe distance from the sword. He watched the arcs before finding an opening and lunged. The knife embedded firmly into the man's side, and Legolas stopped the sword by gripping the hand that held it.

Legolas heard a shout and turned his head just in time to see the other man with his freed spear lunging at him. He pulled his knife free and dodged the spear. Twisting underneath the spear, he cut the man's outstretched arm and then went for his throat.

With both of the men dead and bleeding at his feet, he moved back and breathed to calm his warrior instincts. When he was done, he rolled the corpses over to check them.

They were Riders.

Legolas' head reeled. Riders? He checked them over again and could not get past the unmistakable green cloaks with the running horses emblems as well as the armor. He pulled off their helmet and met with the familiar Rohirric features of golden hair and blue eyes staring listlessly at him.

He turned away from the sight. His hands moved with a mind of their own. He quickly pulled his tunic over his shirt and armed his dual knives and bow and quiver. Legolas did not bother with his freely flowing hair and instead exited his tent.

The crickets' chirping was unbearably loud. The stars were too bright. Or perhaps his senses were too active. Everything seemed too fine. His mind accepted a wide range of information and discarded everything irrelevant to the task at hand.

He had to get to Elfwine.

The campfires were burning to embers, something that was out of the ordinary since it was still the middle of the night. Legolas turned away, heading towards Elfwine's tent. It was furthest from him, situated between the tents for the Riders of the éored.

With the Riders dead in his tent for trying to kill him, Legolas avoided any place where it was likely to meet Riders. He passed by the dying flames of the fire. He was only a few tents away…

"Is something wrong, Master Elf?"

Legolas whipped around. Calhoun stood in front of him, swathed in a cloak, a side of his face lit a shade of red and the other side shadowed.

"It seems you have men as traitors in your company." Legolas said, walking up to him. "Two Riders have broken from your command and tried to kill me. I have taken care of them but I must see to the éored to myself."

Calhoun studied him for an instant and then lashed out with his dagger.

Pain. It shot through his side as the dagger wedged in deeper. Legolas hissed, his mind not functioning through the haze of pain. He was dimly aware of sinking to the ground as the blade retracted and stabbed him again.

When the dagger finally left his body, he placed a hand over his wound in a vain attempt to stem the flow. He looked up, not even commenting as the Riders torched the tents and the flames spread.

"Traitor," Legolas hissed, feeling the warm blood seeping through his fingers.

Calhoun regarded him coolly.

"At the end of the day," he said, his voice soft. "I will not be the traitor."

Hilda's scream broke through his hazy mind, galvanizing his body into action. Nay, Legolas thought to himself as he got up, unsheathing his dual knives as he did so. He did not live for an entire age and through numerous battles just to die by a man's hand in an ambush!

Calhoun noticed his opponent's grim determination and unsheathed his sword. He brought down, only to have it locked into Legolas' crossed knives. The elf gave him a solid kick in his exposed belly. Calhoun staggered. Sheathing his knives, Legolas raced towards Hilda's screams, giving out a sharp whistle as he did so.

"No, please! He is just a child!"

"Let him go, wench!"

Legolas brought up his bow, placing an arrow on the bowstring as he did. He aimed and shot the man who was trying to drag Elfwine from his nurse. Legolas looked just enough to see tears streaming down the child's face.

Blood boiled. He may not be close to his brothers' children, but he did not tolerate them getting hurt either. He turned on the men threatening the pair, eyes flashing in anger as he brought one down after another.

"My lord," Hilda choked in fright as she saw the elf advance. For once, she witnessed the warrior from the fellowship, not the smiling lord from Gondor. Legolas made no reply and grabbed Elfwine hand and had him hook his fingers into the elf's belt.

"Stay with me!" Legolas said.

But even as he said so, it was not possible. Riders surrounded him and his charges from all sides. He saw one readying his spear to throw and he pushed Elfwine's face against his side and brought up his bow.

Even as he loosed the arrow, the Rider threw his spear, successfully hitting his target. Hilda looked shocked for a moment, before crumpling to the ground with the spear protruding from her chest.

Disgusted by the scene of betrayal and useless killing, Legolas loosed one arrow after another.

"Kill the elf! Get the boy!"

Legolas' heart sank. He was one against roughly seventy Riders. And a child's life was at stake.

Help did come though. Tinúviel burst through the lines of the Riders. Legolas looked at her thankfully as she reared, kicking and whinnying. He grabbed Elfwine and pushed him up the horse.

"_To the river!" _He shouted at Tinúviel, shooting his arrows. _"Take him to the river! GO! I will follow!"_

Tinúviel gave a loud whinny, and then sped off towards Entwash.

"Lord!"

Legolas turned, firing his arrows as he searched for the sound. Key and Kinnell were making their way to him, downing Riders as they did. Both had apparently made it to the horses because they were mounted.

And yet even as he watched helplessly, one of the Riders drew back his spear and threw it at Key. Key fell from his horse, the spear embedded firmly in his back. Kinnell kept galloping.

"Lord!" Kinnell shouted. "Take my hand."

Legolas reached up and grabbed Kinnell's outstretched arm and swung behind him as his horse galloped by.

"Where?" Kinnell shouted.

"Cross Entwash!" Legolas replied back, his breath hitching as an arrow whizzed him by. The Rohirrim, as a rule, do not use longbow. They do use crossbows, though, and another arrow went pass them.

"We will drown!"

"Our horses will run down if we stay on this side of the bank!"

Kinnell growled and prodded his horse to the river. They entered it as soon as a shower of arrows fell on the area they just covered.

It was brittle cold. Legolas sucked in a large breath as the water hit his chest. Heart hammering wildly at the danger behind him and around him, with the adrenaline of a warrior rushing through his veins, he was very conscious of everything. In front of him, Tinúviel gave an agonizing whinny as she felt the cold water. The small frame of Elfwine clung to the mare's mane.

They made it safely to the other side of the river, with Calhoun keeping an even eye on their progress.

oOo

Cynric was forced down on his knees.

"Calhoun!" The elderly man roared, his white hair falling on either side of his face, his blue eyes flashing in rage and disbelief. "Have you gone mad? The King will not look upon this lightly."

"Nay, he will not." Calhoun said slowly. Then he turned to the guard who had been standing outside Elfwine's tent the night before. "Did he threaten you?"

The guard gave a twisted smile.

"He did."

"Good," Calhoun said, looking satisfied. Then he took out his dagger, still dirt from Legolas' blood and gave it to a nearby Rider. "Kill him." Calhoun said, nodding at the guard.

"What?" The guard exclaimed, his hand going for his sword. "Captain, I-"

"I have no need of your service." Calhoun said.

"But-"he did not go further. The Rider slit his throat and the guard collapsed.

"You are insane." Cynric spat in horror, recoiling.

"Maybe I am." Calhoun conceded. Then he raised his hand forward. "Join us."

"I would rather die!"

"Do you wish to join the elf instead?"

"That is a preferable choice."

Calhoun eyed him for a moment.

"Then you shall do so."

Cynric looked at him in confusion. Calhoun took his dagger from the Rider and sheathed it. Then he nodded at two men.

"Throw him in the river."

Glytha screamed. "Nay, please! Do not! He cannot swim! Please!"

Cynric struggled against his bounds, shouted insults but the men bounded him and gagged him and then threw him into the river. The old noblewoman fell to her knees in her grief.

"Sir," one of the Riders said. "What should we do of the women?"

"Kill them. I have no use of them. In fact, it will work in our fire."

Glytha looked up, her eyes blazing.

"Hear me, Calhoun! You are no longer a Rohir! You are worse than an animal, a killer, a heartbreaker, a traitor. I curse you for what you have done to my husband and to the king."

"Your plot will not complete." Another woman shot at him.

"Oh, it will." Calhoun said. The women looked at him coldly, with the Rohirric courage and their shoulders back and chin held up proudly. They did not even acknowledge the Riders swinging their blades at their necks.

When the deed was done and no one else was left alive in the camp, the Riders turned to their captain.

"What should we do with the dead bodies?"

"Bury them, and make litters for the dead Riders."

"And where are we headed?"

"Back to Edoras, of course."

oOo

Legolas was freezing. The water of the Entwash was cold, and his wet clothes made him colder in the breeze. Tinúviel galloped frantically, carrying her burden as far as she could. Kinnell was close behind, his horse following at the same speed. It was not until he felt Elfwine shiver violently in his arms did he stop.

"We should let the horses breathe." Legolas said finally, slowing down his mare. Kinnell nodded and pulled his horse to a halt.

Legolas dismounted and then helped Elfwine to the ground.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, kneeling down and checking the boy.

"It is cold." Elfwine replied, teeth chattering.

"You need to get out of those wet things." Legolas decided, getting up and going to Tinúviel.

"_That's a good girl." _Legolas murmured, patting the mare on her neck. He was deeply thankful to her for not allowing him to take his saddlebags off her back.

Ten years of peace in entire of Middle-Earth and yet the elves of Eryn Lasgelen were still the most wary. Legolas shared that wariness. He still packed as an individual would when out in a journey. His cloak was covered in an oiled cloth in the same way as he kept the satchel of poisons covered to protect them against water or moisture. He took his cloak, heavy and ideal for cold winds and shook it out.

"Here, take off your clothes and wrap yourself in this. You need to stay warm."

"What about you?" Elfwine asked, noting that the elf was drenched in water.

"I will survive." Legolas said. "You, on the other hand, can catch a cold."

He held up the cloak as a screen as the boy changed and then had it wrapped around him properly. He took the boy's clothes.

"Now," Legolas said, his voice gentle. "Do you want to eat something? Are you thirsty?"

Elfwine shook his head, his eyes not meeting his. He sniffled. Then he looked up.

"Is Hilda-?"

Legolas remained silent. And Elfwine got his answer. He sobbed. For a moment, Legolas lingered uncertainly, silently admonishing himself for not hiding the truth from his eyes.

"That is enough tears." Legolas said, ruffling the boy's wet hair. "Off to bed with you. you are tired."

Elfwine's eyes shot open, wide with fear. "I can't!" he burst out. "If I do, they'll-"

Legolas suddenly understood. The boy was afraid that he will see them again in his sleep. He was afraid that he will wake up and see the killing again.

"Elfwine, listen to me." Legolas came to the boy's height and grasped his shoulders firmly. "I am not going to allow any of them hurt you. As long as I am still alive, I am going to personally take you to your family, safe and sound. You hear me?"

"What if they are too much for you?" Elfwine asked, looking doubtful.

Was this how father felt, Legolas wondered. And what about his former mentor, Fion, because here Legolas actually felt affronted.

"Have a little trust in me, boy." Legolas said gruffly. "I am not as old to hold my bow as your father led you to believe."

Elfwine misunderstood Legolas' gruffness and pulled away slightly.

"Get some rest," Legolas said, his features softening. "I will protect you just fine against nightmares and such."

Elfwine nodded. Legolas regarded him for a moment, debating if he boy could sleep in the open with nothing underneath him save a bed of grass. But the child went and lay on the ground. Then Legolas reminded himself that Éomer had taken Elfwine out camping now and then. When he heard a soft sound of breath, he bit back a smile. Children truly can sleep anywhere.

He turned to where Kinnell was regarding him evenly. He had watched the entire exchange.

"Are you hurt?" Legolas asked brusquely.

"A few scratches that time will mend." Kinnell answered. Then he smiled dryly as he noticed Legolas' disbelieving look. "They are just a few scratches, lord." He added. "You, on the other hand must have that seen to."

Legolas glanced down at his on wound. Muttering all the while about dropping his guard and being foolish, Legolas uncovered his side and studied the wound. It was deep, hitting his kidney. It will heal in time, for it was not a fatal wound but he will be having its, uh, side-effects for a month.

He cleaned it and dressed it, Kinnell watching with interest.

"You certainly know something about healing."

"You learn many things when you are immortal. Though, I am no healer. I only know the basic."

"Should we not light a fire? It is cold."

"That will only draw attention to us."

"Ah."

"I must thank you. You had taken quite a risk for joining us."

"Ah, well." Kinnell said bitterly. "My brother paid the price, did he not?"

"I am sorry."

"Ah, well. It is for a better cause. I am going to sleep now."

"I will take the first watch then."

Kinnell sounded very gruff and grim. He stayed that way as he rolled into his cloak. Legolas did not think much of it; the man had seen much of war after all.

Legolas sat down on the tuft of grass and leaned back on his hands, his face turned up towards the night sky. Dawn will come in a few hours.

_~You are distressed, my son.~ _Thranduil said, his voice still edged with a little sleep but more concern.

_~Father,~ _Legolas said softly. _~I am in more distress than you can think.~_

Thranduil was instantly alert.

_~Tell me.~ _He commanded.

Legolas spoke of everything until he exhausted the entire topic.

_~I left them behind. I-I let them die.~_

_~You do not know that.~_

_~I do not, indeed. And yet my heart tells me they are dead.~_

_~You had no choice. These men seemed to have plans for the boy. Where are you?~_

_~Far from there, but not far enough. Only the river stand between us and them.~_

_~Can you not take the boy to his parents?~_

_~How? These men stand between Edoras and I.~_

_~Make for Gondor then, Legolas. You need allies. These men will hunt you down. Their hunt may slow down if they found you on another king's soil.~_

_~I will do as you tell me to. Thank you. I am too stunned at the moment to think, I am afraid.~_

_~Such is the case with me when something surprising happens. And at that time, I trust in Thorontur, my chief advisor. And that is nothing to be ashamed of.~_

_~I am not ashamed.~ _Legolas said.

_~Then speak up. There is something else that bothers you.~_

_~It is just… this seems strange.~_

_~Hm.~_

_~What is it?~_

_~Nothing,~ _Thranduil said passively, keeping his thoughts well hidden from his son. _~Get some rest and then ride hard and ride fast. You are not out of danger yet.~_

_~Nay, I am not.~ _Legolas thought, his heart sinking. _~I am at the Eastfold side now. This éored is from the Eastfold, and such a rebellion can only mean-~_

_~There are more than the numbers you see.~ _Thranduil finished. _~All the more reason to flee.~_

_~What I do not understand is why? What have they to accomplish in this?~_

_~You will find no answers if just lie there. For now, your aim is to escort the boy unharmed at whatever cost. Answers will come to you in time. Now get some rest.~_

_~Must you fuss over me so?~_

_~Aye, I should. I have only one child and unfortunately he is a rascal. I know you well. You will worry yourself to death and run yourself to the ground in your aim without a second thought to your health or your life. Now, to sleep!~_

Legolas smiled and cut off his link. He got up and stretched. He let his eyes wander here and there keep a watchful account of his surroundings as his mind walked in Elven dreams.

He did not realize that Kinnell was faking his sleep, one hand on the hilt of his unsheathed dagger as he stared through lidded eyes at the prone figure of the elf.

**~S~**

**_Author's Note: _**

_Hm, this is going to raise quite an interesting reviews._

_I did warn you though. So no flames, please. Constructive criticism is welcome._

_My sincerest apologies for such a late update. There was a large fluctuation in our area, causing many of our eletronics to get fried. My brother lost his laptop and he took mine, lol, 'cuz he had to study. And I got my laptop now. :P_

_Reviews are very welcome. :)_

**_List of OCs:_**

_Cynric- with royal might, old nobleman travelling in Legolas' company._

_Calhoun- warrior, Captain of the eord travelling with Legolas._

_Hilda- battle maiden, nurse of Elfwine._

_Gytha- gift, wife of Cynric._

_Key- leader, brother of Kinnell and nobleman._

_Kinnell- crowned, brother of Key and nobleman._

**_Replies to Reviews: (I am actually scared of giving replies to reviews. One of my reviewers had commented once that I leave hints. So if you find my replies a little short, do not mind me. I do not want to give much away, owing to the genres of the story!)_**

_aronoiiel: Haha, thanks. I am glad. I am happy that it turned out that way. It is the first time I am writing this way, I think you must of noticed. I had not intended to put in Thranduil first, but he nudged into my story, lol. :P_

_Sandy-wmd: Well, yes. Thank you! :D_

_Guest: Is it truly that interesting? I have to admit this is the first time I am focusing more on the main plot than on the side plots and it is fun to see the suspense build._

_Eldariel: Thanks! I am glad. So I guess I can drabble with these genres when I feel like it, huh? :P_

_Ilovevollyball: Plot thickening, indeed! My lips are sealed! xD (No offence)_

_brankel1: Thanks. :D :D_

_Russian Flower: You know, your compliment is really flattering. I am very happy that it is so enjoyable to read and my English is well. (English is not my native language)_

_sarathestarkidranger: Haha, I can understand hotel internets. They can be slow. I am very happy that you took the time to review after forgetting. I am only sorry that I did not update sooner. And thank you. :) The fact that you are trying to review often means a lot to me! :)_

_Hemithea: Thanks. :D_


	6. So It Begins

Chapter 5

As the sun rose, Legolas' heart slowly sank. A red sun…

Blood has been spilt.

He turned, ignoring as rays of scarlet spread out above him in the sky and went over to Tinúviel. The mare whinnied in her worry, butting her head against him to show her sympathies. He leaned into her briefly, taking in the small comfort before briskly preparing her for the day's ride.

"_I am fine." _He told her when she tugged on his shirt between her teeth.

Freeing himself from his grasp, he went to his saddlebags. His saddlebags, though adequate for one elf, was insufficient for two grown males and one child. He had packed dry bread covered in clean cloth which would survive for days. There was ceramic jar of honey with a tight lid in place to keep it from ruining. There were dried fruits, shriveled and preserved but still edible. He had water skins, which he could easily fill in nearby streams or the Entwash.

Between three people, it was not enough. Legolas and Kinnell could eat from the land, and the child could have the food easily.

Legolas rubbed his hand over his face before glancing towards Entwash. His blessed sight could pick up the ruined campsite, its inhabitants long gone, either fled or dead.

"When are we going to move?" Kinnell asked, coming up behind him.

"As soon as Elfwine eats." Legolas answered, pulling himself out his thoughts.

"He is awake right now."

Legolas crossed his arms and tilted his back to catch Elfwine's glimpse. The boy was with Tinúviel, the mare blowing the boy's hair and making him giggle. He was still dressed in Legolas' cloak.

He went to where he had laid out the boy's clothes to dry and touched them. They were slightly damp from the dew but still wearable. He picked them up and went to Elfwine.

"Good morning, little one." Legolas said, coming to kneel beside the Rohirric Prince.

"Morning, uncle." Elfwine mumbled, his smile fading as he remembered the previous night's horrors. Legolas noticed and smoothed out the boy's frown.

"Did you sleep properly?" Legolas asked.

"I did," Elfwine said, showing surprise. "I did not think I would." He added thoughtfully.

Legolas smile inwardly and did not comment. He had been keeping watch in Elfwine's thoughts, pushing away all memories and a fear close to the boy's incident and bringing up the better memories. He ruffled the boy's hair, deciding not to tell him about how he had kept in touch with his mind.

"Are you hungry?"

"Aye."

Legolas gave him the bread and honey. Kinnell managed to capture two small rabbits.

"You learn when you are at war." He answered to Legolas' surprised look.

He got a fire going and cooked the rabbits. They were tasteless without herbs but they ate it without complain. Kinnell had cleaned and gutted the rabbits out of Elfwine's sight and buried the innards away.

One they were done, they extinguished the fire and hid its traces.

Elfwine changed into his clothes. Legolas looked him over critically. Éomer had laughed off the nightshirts preferred by Gondorian nobles and even refused to let Lothíriel put Elfwine into the habit. He was extremely thankful. The boy was much better in a loose linen shirt and trousers than a gossamer thin nightshirt out in the open. Still Legolas placed his cloak around the boy.

"I wouldn't want you to catch a chill." He said.

Kinnell brought the two horses, Tinúviel being more stubborn and aggressive against the Rohirric.

"I do not think your mare likes me." He said dryly as Legolas soothed her.

"I do not understand why. She is usually friendly."

Kinnell went to grab the boy and mount him on his horse but Legolas stopped him.

"The boy stays with me." Legolas said.

"Oh, I do not know. Your mare is quite temperate-"

"The boy," Legolas said coldly, stressing on each word, "stays with me."

Kinnell looked into Legolas' cold eyes and decided not to go against him.

"As you wish."

oOo

Eryn Lagelen was beautiful at this time of the year. Winter was almost upon them, but the sun shone brightly, making the dark green-black leaves of the forest seem lighter in shade. Birds chirped merrily, their sounds coming all the way to Thranduil's Halls. As high as the heavily fortified walls were, they did not obscure Thranduil's view as he stood upon the balcony. The sight of the forest stretched out in front of him was extravagant, the tree standing tall like the pillars made of stone deep within the Lonely Mountain. Below him, he heard his army practicing their skill. Gone was the war, but the people of Eryn Lasgelen were wary, and so they always tested their skill whenever they could.

Thranduil placed his palms on the fence and breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh breeze. His keen sight was something Legolas had inell. His grey eyes were known for their sparkle of dimmed mischief, combined with the sadness that had come upon him in the years before him. he looked down and watched the elves march in even lines, singing as they went. At the practicing ring and the archery range, he heard the distant sounds of swords colliding and thudding of arrows. The sounds of weaponry mingled with the birds' songs.

"_My lord?" _

Thranduil turned his head to the sound. Thorontur, his loyal advisor stood behind him in flowing robes of forest green and gold. He had clasped his hands behind his back, a polite expression on his face.

"_Sire, the petitioner is here for the meeting."_

Thranduil turned away and looked at the forest trees. They called out to him invitingly; the taste of freedom was so near and yet so far away. He had always loved to hunt, to feel the air against him as he raced through the trees. Legolas had always teased him for it but he went out hunting nevertheless.

"_Sire?"_

He could hear a trace of worry in his advisor's voice when he refused to reply.

Something was different. There was a shift in the air. It was small, and unobtrusive but it was there for certain. It did not concern him.

"_My lord King!"_

Thranduil leaned over the fence, searching for its source. He was not as wise as Elrond or Galadriel, but he was wise in his own fashion. He was a Warrior. He relied on his instincts. And his instincts were telling him something.

He jerked out of his reverie in surprise when Thorontur grabbed hold of him from behind and pulled him away.

"_Are you mad?" _Thorontur exclaimed, his normally pleasant expression melting away to show fear. _"You were leaning for too much." _

"_Where are the sons of Elrond?" _Thranduil asked in turn.

The advisor's eyes narrowed. The king had been behaving strangely for some days, asking something entirely irrelevant sometimes, and becoming nostalgic in the other.

"_In Imladris," _Thorontur replied, his stoic expression coming back into place to hide his bewilderment. _"Where they should be."_

"_Hm."_

Thranduil freed himself from Thorontur's grasp and turned.

"_Sire?"_

"_Come, Thorontur, we have a meeting to attend."_

Thranduil found himself in his old friend's grasp again.

"_Not until you tell me what you had in mind!"_

"_I was merely thinking, Thorontur."_

"_That is a lie and you know it. You only come to this balcony when you are troubled, Thranduil!"_

"_I am fine, Thorontur, truly. You are overstepping your boundaries grabbing me like this."_

"_I am looking after you as I had done for your father, youngling!" _Thorontur said, ire becoming more apparent.

"_There is no reason to get irritated."_

"_What danger is there in our forest? Tell me."_

"_Thorontur," _Thranduil said, freeing himself again. _"There is no danger."_

He held his eyes with Thorontur's own for a while before nodding and turning to walk back inside.

_At least, _Thranduil added silently. _There is no danger here._

oOo

It had been three days since the unfortunate event of the campsite. They should have reached Gondor by now, but Legolas did not want to take a clear route to Minas Tirith. While it was true that the sooner he was off Rohirric soil, the better, he also knew that the rebels may be awaiting him in a trap.

And so he used all that he knew of field craft as they travelled. Every time they had stopped, he refused to light a fire, fearing that someone nearby would spot them. Whenever they broke camp, he would hide their tracks. He wanted to avoid all Riders, even if it was Éothain himself, till he delivered Elfwine safely in Aragorn, Faramir or more preferably Éomer's hands.

On the third day, they were beside the Entwash again, making a wide arc from the point they had first come to the bank after the attack, deep into Eastfold and then back to Entwash. It was safer here, now that Legolas was sure that Calhoun would not follow them. But that did not mean he had his men following them either.

It was evening when they stopped for the night. He helped Elfwine dismount his horse, murmuring soft words to Tinúviel as he did so. He rubbed the mare down with grass, apologizing for not looking after he more properly. The mare whinnied and butted against his shoulder.

"_Your hoof hurts?" _Legolas asked in Sindarin. _"Show me."_

Running his hand down and grabbing the hoof of her left hindlimb, he picked it up and searched the inside part of her hoof. He felt small stones poke into his fingertips.

For a moment he debated. He had no pick to remove the stones, his saddlebags still woefully inadequate. He sighed and reached for his small knife hidden in his boot.

"_Steady, old girl." _He said softly, when he noticed that the knife caused her to whinny in alarm. _"I will not cut, I promise."_

It was dangerous, he knew, but with gentleness, he slowly loosened the stones before removing them completely with his fingers.

"_There you go." _He said, patting her neck to soothe her trembling. _"See? I did not hurt you."_

Tinúviel rubbed her head against him before letting him go. Legolas turned away, putting his knife back in his boot as he did so, to find Elfwine watching him.

"She could have gotten hurt." Elfwine said.

"She could have." Legolas agreed. "But hurting her would have hurt me as well. I could not tolerate it. Come, you need to eat."

The food in Legolas' saddlebags was kept only for the child. It was too dark to hunt, however. In truth, it was too dark for Kinnell to hunt, but for Legolas it would not be a problem. However, Legolas had no wish to let Elfwine out of his sight.

"What about us?" Kinnell asked.

"I will survive." Legolas answered. "It is not the first time I had gone without food in the Wild. We will hunt tomorrow."

"I will not either," Kinnell said. "We had our fair share of hungry days during the War."

Legolas nodded, watching Elfwine eat the dried bread with honey.

"Off to bed with you." Legolas said, once Elfwine had eaten. The boy nodded obediently and Legolas felt his heart wrench. He usually found Elfwine's energy to be tiring, but he did not enjoy this boy's current docile nature either. "Sleep well, little one." Legolas murmured, securing his cloak around Elfwine. "You will be playing with your cousins soon enough."

Elfwine smiled uncertainly. "You think so?"

"I will make sure of it." Legolas promised, smoothing the boy's hair hesitantly before getting up.

"I will take the first watch." Kinnell said. "You can rest till then."

"Thank you, but no." Legolas declined. "I will stand guard as well. My heart is not too warm with the idea that we may have pursuers."

Kinnell nodded, though a bit reluctantly. "Very well, then."

The pair stood on either side of the camp, staring out into the darkness. One of them was wondering what the day before them led to, and the other was cursing his ill fate.

oOo

Fate would have it that at the same night, Calhoun and his men reached the city walls of Edoras. The men carried the dead between them, laid on roughly made stretchers of cloth. They looked grimmer than ever, an air of anger simmering among them.

"Open the gates!" The shout went up.

The doors of Edoras opened, admitting them into the city. Calhoun's horse trotted up the hill, his men following behind him until they reached Meduseld.

Calhoun dismounted, and gave an imperceptive nod to his Riders.

"Calhoun!"

The captain whipped his head about, and hid his surprise as he saw Éothain came down the steps of Meduseld.

"Captain Éothain." Calhoun greeted.

"This is dark indeed that you come bearing the dead." Éothain said, waving the greetings aside as he looked behind Calhoun. "Where are the people you were to escort? What of the King's son? What of his sworn brother? Tell me not that he, our longtime friend, has fallen!"

"I did not expect you to be here so soon." Calhoun said instead. Éothain turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing.

"My éored finished quicker than anyone had anticipated and thus we made to come here early. Now tell me! What news?"

"Grim news," Calhoun responded. "And I will utter it only once and in front of the king."

Éothain regarded him for a long time before finally turning.

"Come, then! The King and Queen wait. And they are most anxious."

**~S~**

**_Author's Note:_**

_What do you think will happen? Any ideas?_

_**List of OCs of this chapter:**_

_Calhoun- warrior_

_Kinnell- crowned_

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_aronoiiel:_

_Thanks. I was worried about the violence and I did not want to go too gory. There is a fine line between mature and such._

_GOLLUM:_

_lol, thanks. I take it you enjoyed it._

_branke1:_

_Thanks. :)_

_sarathestarkidranger:_

_You know, this is the first time I killed off my OCs and I was actually feeling teary-eyed. lol. I cannot thank you enough for reviewing. Yours is those type of reviews that always brightens an author's day and gives a satisfaction that yes, the reader did read it and took the time to review it. So thank you. :)_

_Guest:_

_Thank you!_

_Ilovevollyball: _

_brownies! :D_

_You know, your review always makes me smile. it helps me see the funnier side of my story and I love to read your reviews. Heck, I am usually eager to read 'em. :D_

_Oh, come on! Be fun and tell me what your theory is. I will not comment 'cuz I might give away hints but I am really curious. :D_

_And one more thing. I hope you do not mind because I am not trying to sound mean, but try to explain to your sister that it is easier to give criticizing reviews than it is write a story by oneself. Other reviewers do criticsize but they also take the time to tell what they liked and if they did not like something, then they also told me **how **to improve myself and where I need improvement. Simply telling me that she did not like it and she had expected better is not something that helps me but also has an opposite effect. And also, my writing is obviously not a worldwide standard. I am a student of science, not literature. Combined with that, I have a family and chores the same way you guys have. If it is hard to write a review where good and bad parts of the story are not evenly commented upon, then there is no need to review. I would definitely not mind._

_Also, I will give the tips later. Forgive me, but I am very busy this month with my studies and this may be the last update for the month._

_i will P.U.S as soon as I could. :)_


	7. The Catalyst

Chapter 6

At night, the skylights of the Golden Hall were shut, darkening the crevices of the vaulted ceiling. Fires were lit in the fireplaces, providing both warmth and light to the Hall.

Upon a high platform were two thrones of the king and the queen. Green and gold banners bearing the white horse of Rohan decorated the wall on either side of the two thrones.

In spite of the late hour, the Hall was full of men and women, standing anxiously as the Riders of Rohan marched inside.

Upon the two thrones sat Éomer and Lothíriel. The King sat tall and proudly, his broad-shouldered and wider frame displaying his might. He wore no crown, his brightly golden hair flowing freely on either side of his face and trimmed beard over a firm jaw. His clothes were green and gold, representing the colors of Rohan.

Lothíriel was garbed in green and gold as well. Her black locks were bound in single braid that fell over one shoulder, strands free at the front. She wore no crown like her husband. She sat just as proudly as her king, her face carefully bearing no expression. But the two royals had their fingers briefly touching each other, the only outward sign of the anxiety.

Calhoun came to a stop before them and knelt, his green cloak spreading behind him.

"My king," He said humbly, successfully hiding his disgust for him. He knelt, a picture of complete woe.

"Calhoun," Éomer said. His voice sounded… patient but it was powerful and resonated through the Hall. "You have come early than is your time, bearing grave news."

"Fate has treated our travel ill, your majesty. And I regret to say that misfortune has befallen your son."

Slim fingers tightened over battle-hardened knuckles. Éomer's jaw tightened.

"Give me news of my son." Éomer's voice was barely above a whisper.

Calhoun bowed his head.

"My deepest apologies, your majesty, but I would prefer to tell you the tale privately. In order to have discretion for the events inspired…"

There was murmur circulating through the Hall. Éomer's light blue eyes flashed in sudden anger. But the king controlled it. Éothain decided to step in.

"Perhaps the council chamber should be more suitable." He said, moving quickly to the door at the side of the throne.

Éomer glanced at him, tension sizzling through the Hall. Then the King relented and got up, holding his queen's hand to help her rise from her throne.

Éothain led the way, his men already dispersing the crowd in the Hall. Catching snatches of conversation in his ear, he did not think it was a wise choice to hear the tale privately but it seemed as if Calhoun had something to say that was better off heard secluded.

They walked through dark corridors, the wooden horse ornaments on the pillars looking daunting in the shadow. Once they reached the council chamber, Éothain placed his torch in one of the holders, his men doing the same as the king and queen took their places as heads. Calhoun came to stand in front of them, some of his loyal soldiers standing on his either side. Éothain noticed that one of them held a long sack. An old man came to stand beside Éomer.

He was old, bent with age, yet very tall. He had a hooked nose and hawk-like appearance in spite of his weathered cheeks. His eyes were blue and dark as they accessed the men in front of him. He wore no robes as advisors of his station would. Instead, he preferred wearing breeches and a tunic over his shirt. He often had said, on his different clothing, that he was too old to bear the burden of heavy robes lined with fur while he bore the burden of the kingdom.

His name was Cerdric. He was the king's advisor. When Grima had become King Theoden's advisor, Cerdric had left Edoras, fearing that Grima would hunt him down and kill him. Once the War ended, he had returned immediately and sworn allegiance to King Éomer, whom he had served unwaveringly as the years passed.

"Speak, and let there be no interruptions." Éomer commanded.

Calhoun bowed his shoulders, and ducked his head.

"Sire, we left on the first week of September, (according to the Shire Calendar) as you recall-"

"Yes, yes, get on with it."

"Our travel was calm and peaceful with occasional stops to rest the horses and to eat and rest-"

"Of course!"

"And so a week passed in this fashion. Your son had come to no harm, aside from some of his mischiefs that was entirely his doing and yet perhaps, it was his innocence-"

"For pity's sake," Éomer snarled, losing his patience. He would have gotten up from his ornate seat to show his famous temper had it not been for his wife's tightening grip around his fingers. "You spend too much time on details that are of no concern of me. Tell me the tale of how it came to pass, that my best men are dead, my son missing and my sworn brother nowhere to be found!"

And in the shadows of the chamber, Éothain watched silently.

Calhoun bowed his head further.

"I fear the tale will cause to much pain, my liege."

"Speak, and speak freely, man!"

"Sire, it came to our attention that Legolas Greenleaf, the woodland prince-"

"My sworn brother-"

"He," Calhoun said, stressing on the word "was spending much time with the heir. Now it did not seem to be suspicious, concerning how he was in your good graces. But after a week had passed and we had encamped at the edge of Entwash, things happened. It was night, and the fires burnt low. I went on a night patrol and questioned my sentries here and there to see if all was well. As I walked, I heard muffled sounds of pain. I rounded around a tent, only to find two of my men dead upon the ground, bearing knife marks that ended their lives. I knew then that there was an intruder in the camp."

"I turned, drawing my sword and left, intending to get to our little prince's tent to see if he was safe and to get him to flee, if necessary."

Calhoun swallowed.

This was the turning point.

"And then?" Éomer asked.

"I do not know how you will take the news, my liege."

"Speak and we will see. And do not stop again, or I will think of a threat!"

"My liege, as I returned to the child's tent, I found Master Legolas already standing there. I told him of my findings and his expression was unreadable."

He paused.

"What then?"

"My liege, he-he stabbed me."

Éomer became silent. And then, with a cry of rage he wrenched his hand out his wife's grasp and threw himself at Calhoun, drawing his sword as he did so. Lothíriel let loose a shriek.

"What games are you playing, Calhoun?" He snarled, Gúthwine gleaming in the torchlight.

"No games, my liege." He said, choking as the sword moved menacingly.

"You may not know my brother as well as I know him, but I know him well nevertheless. He had always stood by side, loving what I loved and looking after anything or anyone I cared for. And you expect me to believe," his grip on Calhoun's collar tightened, making him flinch. "That my brother would dare take my only son away from me, and kill my men!"

The tension on Calhoun's throat immediately lessened as Éothain decided to step in and pull Éomer away.

"That is enough," he said quietly. "Let him speak, my friend."

Éomer glanced at him, half-annoyed that Éothain would be so informal at a moment like this, but his mind attained rational point and he straightened.

"Continue, Calhoun."

Calhoun glanced warily at the King's sword. Catching his gaze, Éomer re-sheathed it.

"He stabbed me, and then I realized what he was going to do. I called him traitor but he said he would not be. I feared immediately that he would pin everything on me and I fought him. But the elf was fast! He grabbed a burning wood from the dying embers of a nearby campfire and torched the tent holding your son."

Once again, Éomer moved as if to throttle him, but Éothain held him back. But Éothain too had no mercy for Calhoun. His jaw was hard; his eyes cold as if warning him that he had better know what he was speaking of.

"And then," Calhoun continued. "The maid Hilda came out of the tent, screaming as she did so and held the boy in her arms. The elf took my spear and threw it at Hilda, killing her immediately. The fire spread from one tent to another, for we had pitched them almost touching on another. The elf grabbed the boy and forced him upon his mare that he had whistled to come. The fire had raised the alarm, and my men soon came, the noblemen soon following. We tried to fight him, but the elves are blessed indeed! One or two of us managed to get him but others were unsuccessful and fell by his arrows. One of our own followed the elf to the river where he was fleeing with the child. We think the elf may trust him enough to get the child back here to safety, but if the elven race is as good in reading intentions as they are in battle, then this meager hope will be lost to us."

Éomer turned his head and ran a trembling hand over his beard.

"I refuse to believe it." He announced loudly. "It could not be true. Legolas would never-"

"But he did," Calhoun interrupted.

And at that moment, the soldier who held the sack untied it and turned it down. Wood fell and clattered on the floor. In the light of the fire from the torches, the elven wood of the arrows glowed slightly, their blood-stained tips horribly visible.

"The arrows that killed my men." Calhoun said, making sure his voice wavered in mock anger and hurt.

"What of the nobles that travelled with you?" Éothain asked quietly.

"The women burned in the tents, lost to us in the confusion. Cynric tried to follow Legolas and drowned in the attempt. Only Hilda and Key's bodies were salvage and brought back. Kinnell followed Legolas and is still alive. That is, if Legolas did not kill him yet." He did not say that the women's bodies were thrown into the river, nor anything else.

Éomer's head whirled. He wanted to ask why would-

Just then, Cerdric bent down to whisper in his ear and his thoughts fled, as was normal when something else distracts someone.

"I cannot believe it."

"You may examine the bodies, my liege. Perhaps that will help in more proof."

Éomer turned to look at Calhoun, his eyes staring into his in disbelief. A part of him wanted to deny it, so that he could blindly say that he did not believe but-

"Let us go, then." Éomer spoke aloud.

They walked quickly, feverishly, as if it was a distasteful thing to do and it was better to be done and finished immediately.

They returned to the Great Hall, which was now silent and empty. Litters decorated the floor of the Hall, green cloaks covering the dead that slept underneath. Calhoun went to one and unveiled it.

Éomer stared. The soldier was young, whose face now pale in death, making his blond hair and beard more unnatural. He would have been sleeping had it not been for the prominent knife stab across his throat. And had Éomer known the truth, this man was in fact the guard outside Elfwine's tent, who had threatened Legolas and was killed by Calhoun's orders.

Calhoun unveiled another, showing the King the arrow wound that took the man's life. And so it went, more than twenty men dead at Éomer's feet. Behind him, Éothain and Cerdric followed silently. Lothíriel was quiet, all signs of laughter and liveliness she had exhibited in front of Legolas lost. Now only her maternal instinct ruled; fear for her child and hatred against any who dared harm him.

Éomer did not speak.

Was it madness? Or was it simply that their minds were simply clouded by their mutual worry for their only babe? Whatever the case, both found themselves exhausted by the events.

"We will disccuss this further, later." Éomer said, finally. "Let us mourn the dead, tonight… and the lost."

And sleep would not come.

So it was. The King and Queen retired to their bed. But Edoras did not sleep that night, so great was the people's curiosity. Questions arose from one point to the other, answers of which were twisted and misunderstood. Rumors spread widely from one person's lips to another. Some said that the child was a demon, who ran away to cast a spell upon Rohan from a safe distance. Others said that the elf was to blame, that he took the child away to the mother's homeland. And still others blamed their king and queen. None could understand why the king will make his decision the next day, when it seemed that the situation required an immediate reaction. Some, who had weak hearts and foolish tongues, even said that the king did not care and the queen could care even less. Perhaps, her heart is as black as her hair.

None would know that the king and queen did not sleep either, but wept for their only child and an old friend, afraid for what the day may bring.

And others. What of the others? Others like Calhoun watched the rumors spread, with a secret smile and even conceited happiness.

Their plan was falling into place.

_Madness._

oOo

The next morning, Legolas gritted his teeth.

He should have known they were trouble from the beginning.

From a young age, he had been more in tune with his surroundings. His father was Sindarin elf and he had inherited his mind-speech ability from him. His mother, on the other hand, was a Silvan elf and from her he learned to hear the speech of everything about him, the stones, the trees.

_Danger! _They screamed at him.

_I know. _He snapped back.

"We have to get moving." Kinnell said, twisting around on his saddle to look behind.

_You don't say._

Legolas kept his head turned back, and stared at the approaching Riders. They were still four hours of gallop away, their flowing horsetails from their helmets and green cloaks prominent in the sunshine.

"We ride, and we ride hard." Legolas said, turning his head to face the front again. "Come, we go deeper into Rohan.

oOo

Both Éomer and Lothíriel were subdued and quiet in the morning, as many, including Éothain had noticed. They could not have eaten breakfast, but neither were they allowed to.

There was a shouting crowd outside Meduseld.

Both the king and queen rushed outside, only to come face-to-face with the angry people of Rohan. Fists were shaken towards them. Others held up their hands as they shouted and chanted. Some asked where the prince was, what the elf intended. It seemed, for all the secrecy on part of the two royals (and all the exposing of the mangled truth on part of the rebellion), the people had found out what had occurred.

"What news?" One shouted.

"Muster the Rohirrim," Another young man yelled. People cheered, voicing their thoughts.

It was madness, Éomer thought as he looked down below the raised platform at the sea of people forcing his hand. They were a catalyst, driving on what some person desired him to do. He would not do it, not for worlds, and definitely not against Legolas. Brothers by blood, they may not be but brothers they were just the same. Legolas would not do what Calhoun said he did. There had to be a reason. There had to be some sort of a proof, just something to prove that it was all a lie. Legolas would not do this to him.

Or would he?

"Muster the Rohirrim!"

"Muster the Rohirrim!"

"Death upon our enemies!"

"Death!"

"Death!"

It was the catalyst. And the king was bound to his people. They would not listen to him.

"Muster the Rohirrim," he said in a defeated voice to Éothain. The man's eyes widened.

And in one corner, Calhoun watched with a twisted smile.

_Madness._

**~S~**

**_Author's Note:_**

_What do you think of this chapter? For the older reviewers, was it believable? Has my writing changed?_

_A lot of you remarked that it is hard to believe that Eomer would believe Calhoun. You see, he didn't. Now we will see how it plays out._

_Also, on the people. The people are like the real rulers of a country. Whatever their saying goes. We see it now and also in history. And Eomer was then forced to make his choice._

**_List of OCs:_**

_Cynric- with royal might_

_Calhoun- warrior_

_Hilda- battle maiden_

_Glytha- gift_

_Key- leader_

_Kinnell- crowned_

_Cerdric-loved one, kindly one._

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_Forgive me. I have a cough and headache that had kept me away from my busy life as well as writing. It is hard to look at a screen at the moment with my headache. I will reply to you guys in the next chapter._

_Again, my sincerest apologies._


	8. Poison Tastes Sweeter

Chapter 7

Within three hours, Éothain had readied two éoreds for riding. One éored was Calhoun's own, who, by Calhoun's manipulation had insisted to travel with them to capture the elf. The other éored was Éothain's own, for which Éomer was personally very relieved. With his fatherly side screaming at him to act rashly and blame the one who seemed the murder but was also his sworn brother, he needed another to steady him.

It seemed with the cool breeze blowing and the sun shining brightly down upon them that the madness had receded somewhat, but the anxiety and fear, anger and resentment was still there.

Doubt was still knawing on his mind, questioning himself, questioning Legolas, making him conveniently forget Legolas' reluctance and foreboding when Éomer had been insistent that he take his son with him to Minas Tirith. It was so, because his fatherly side was feeding upon his fear and making him imagine the worse of things. It was entirely natural.

Was it?

"They are ready." Éothain said, coming to stand by his side.

Ten years had done nothing to lessen either two's prowess. Both were still powerfully built, their frames wider and broader like all the Rohirrim. That often set them apart from the Gondorians, who were slimmer in spite of some more muscular.

"This is madness." Éomer whispered.

"Aye, it is."

"You will keep me from doing anything rash, would you not?"

"As I always have."

Éomer ran a gloved hand over his face, the other arm having his helmet tucked under it.

"Lothíriel would not speak."

"She is too afraid, for both you and for your son."

The two men stood upon the platform. The breeze picked up, cradling their hair.

"Have you sent word to Gimli and Aragorn?" Éomer asked.

"Aye, I have."

"They will not believe it."

"Nay, they will not." Éothain agreed.

Legolas would never do this to him, Éomer said to himself firmly.

Would he?

"Come, let us go down."

In one hour, they had readied the horses and they spurred it to the gates.

"Ride out, Éorlingas!" Éomer's powerful cry echoed in the air. The people moved back to make way.

Up on the raised platform of Meduseld, beside the pole bearing the flag of Rohan, stood Lothíriel, Queen of Rohan. Her hair free and black in the wind, her hands clasped in front of her as she stood in front of the silent hall. Behind her lurked a shadow.

_In a game of chess, never leave the queen unprotected._

oOo

Legolas leaned forward, then straightened and raised his fist to signal a stop. In front of him, Elfine-poor child- was leaning in his sleepiness.

They were all weary, including the horses. Throughout the night, the chase went on and on. They rested their horses for a while before beginning their ride anew. While Legolas was used to such a circumstance, others were not. Kinnell was starting to know the stress of living in the Wild with little to no provisions. His horse, though capable in its own right, was not used to such an exercise. Tinúviel, in spite of her small build due to her breed, was sturdy in her own right. Even now, she had her hidden reserves of strength, capable of taking her burden farthest possible from signs of danger. Legolas, though, reigned her in.

"_Do not want to overwork it, girl." _He had whispered softly to her when she had protested. She had replied that he was more worried about her than she was of him, to which he had only smiled in reply.

The major disadvantage in these vast plains was that they cannot be hidden from plain view, except in clusters of large, thick rocks that rose above the land. They could have been a shelter had it not been the fact that their pursuers were keeping a vigilant track upon them.

Still, on the horses' part, they had managed to put a remarkable distance between them and their followers. Legolas had spotted one of the may scattered forests growing in Rohan up ahead when the chase had begun. They had finally reached it through the ride in the night. The edge of the forest would provide some sort of a cover for a while yet.

"We rest here for the morning." Legolas said when Kinnell drew near. The man gave a weary nod and dismounted. Legolas followed suit, and then helped Elfwine down.

"Sorry, little one." He murmured, smoothing the boy's hair (the only thing he was comfortable of doing at the moment, frankly). "Let us get you some food and then you can sleep. How does that sound?"

Elfwine did not reply, but nodded. His eyes drooped shut in their weariness.

It turned out that the boy could barely eat, so great was his weariness. At last, Legolas managed to get him take a few bites before letting him lie on the ground. The boy fell asleep immediately.

Kinnell studied the forest in front of him.

"The game here will require archery and that is not a skill I have." Kinnell announced. "You would have to do the hunting this time, I am afraid."

Legolas did not like it, but Kinnell spoke the truth.

"Very well," he said in resignation. "Let me go and hunt then. You will stay here."

"Aye," Kinnell agreed.

"But wait," Legolas added with an afterthought.

Going up to one tree, he pressed his hand on the bark.

_~Who dares disturb my slumber?~ _The tree rumbled.

_~One of the Firstborn, whom you and your people once knew ere men came to your lands and your forest diminished.~_

_~Firstborn? It is long indeed since we heard a voice so fair. The memory of their passing our lands is so dim…~ _The tree's thoughts drifted off as slumber overtook him again.

_~I have come to ask your help.~_

_~And why should we help you?~_

_~I am in need.~_

_~Humph. What is it that you want?~_

_~Look after the sapling for us while we hunt in your forest.~_

_~what is it that you hunt for? Wood? Or flesh?~_

_~Flesh.~_

There was an audible rumble now as the trees awakened and conversed with one another.

_~Very well. We will look after the sapling. But be warned. Take only as much flesh as you need for now and not more. Take more and you all get hurt, including the young leaf plant.~_

_~Very well.~_

"The trees will look after him." Legolas said. "I want you to refill our water skins. We will be taking a sharp turn for Gondor now. And we will be stopping even lesser than before."

"Very well, then."

oOo

Legolas was immensely pleased with himself. He had managed to catch up three plump rabbits for them both. Some mushrooms caught his eye but more elements in a dish meant much longer cooking, something that did not fancy him the least when the thought of the pursuers crossed his mind. So, he turned back to where the camp was made.

He found Kinnell already waiting for him.

"Water skins?" he asked.

"Already filled." Kinnell offered him a bottle. "Have a sip."

"I am fine."

"You must be thirsty."

"I am not, truly."

"Come now."

"Alright," Legolas relented, taking the water skin in his hand. He was raising it to his lips when he spotted Elfwine awake.

"Look who is awake." Legolas said, with the water skin still in hand. He walked up to the boy and sat down with him. "Did you sleep well?"

Elfwine nodded. Legolas frowned.

"Are you well, little one?"

Elfwine shook his head before whispering, "I feel funny."

"What do you mean?" Legolas said, instantly worried. He placed his hand on the boy's forehead but felt no heat. The boy had no fever.

"It is just… pain."

"Where?"

Elfwine swallowed. Then he whispered, "Everywhere."

Legolas' brow furrowed.

"Did you have anything once I was gone?"

"Just water." Elfwine replied. "Kinnell had given it to me."

Legolas stared at him for a moment.

"Which water skin?" Legolas pressed. The two water skins with them were divided into the one for the horses' use and the other for themselves. Perhaps, Kinnell had made a mistake-

"The one in your hand."

Legolas looked down at the item. Its mouth was still open, the sound of water gurgling inside it reaching to his ears. He inverted it, letting its contents flow out. He expected foul odor, or perhaps a suspicious color. He found neither.

He let his finger dip into the mouth of the water skin and he touch its inside. When his finger came out, it was covered in shiny, sticky liquid.

Poison.

He felt his anger swell up inside him. Elfwine was not giving him much attention as before, lost as he was in his own world of pain.

He turned around, where Kinnell was standing coolly as he stared at him.

"_Traitor!" _Legolas hissed, anger making him slip into his own tongue.

Kinnell raised a brow.

"I suspect you are condemning me in your old language."

"Where did you come by the poison?" Legolas demanded.

"It was from your own supplies, Master Elf."

Horror swept into Legolas' soul when he realized that the man had used his own supplies against him. Legolas turned to where the saddlebags were, cursing himself for not keeping Tinúviel to guard his things. They had sent the horses to graze and to rest while they stopped.

"You will not find it there."

Legolas stopped and turned around.

"What do you mean?"

Kinnell gave a cruel smile.

"My hand may have slipped by the river when I was filling up the water skins."

Kinnell knew true fear, that horrible true fear as Legolas grabbed him by the collar, choking him.

"The name of the vial you used?" Legolas asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I will not tell!"

"Then do not."

Legolas pressed his mind against the man's, immediately reading his thoughts and memories. He soon excessed the memory he needed, seeing the blurred name, blurred because Kinnell had paid no attention to it.

When he withdrew, Legolas studied him for a fraction of a second before hitting him hard on his jaw. Kinnell crumpled to the ground.

"_I will deal with you later." _Legolas said furiously to the unconscious form of the man. He turned to his young charge. He noted the boy's pale face in contrast to his flushed cheeks and labored breathing.

_~Father, we have a problem.~ _Legolas said, reaching out with his mind and connecting it with his father's. In the meantime, his hands fumbled with his pouch containing poisons that hung from his belt.

Warmth and security that Legolas had always known in his childhood flooded through the link.

_~What has happened?~ _Thranduil demanded.

In short phrases, Legolas explained everything, all the while opening his pouch and bringing out the anitdotes.

_~What poison is this?~_

_~This one acts on whatever is controlling movements and whatever else. It makes the person lose all feeling, making even the involuntary muscles difficult to use, sending both the lungs and the heart to rest and an inevitable death.~_

_~But the boy's pain-~_

_~Is the beginning of his sypmtoms.~_

_~Do you not have the antidote for this poison?~_

_~I do.~ _Legolas replied in frustration. _~Or at least, I did. The fool threw the satchel into the stream.~_

_~But Rangers carry another pouch on their belts, do they not? Or have your customs changed since you went to Ithilien?~_

_~We still carry pouches on our belts.~ _Legolas confirmed, finding his desired vial.

_~How long does the boy have?~_

_~At the moment? Less than half an hour.~ _Legolas replied as he walked to Elfwine. He gently put up the boy's head.

"Forgive me." He said softly, when the boy struggled against him.

It was a famous saying that herbs and poisons were the Ranger's friends. It was something taught to any Ranger apprentice from the very beginning. At first, it was always difficult to access which poison was which and deliver the proper antidote. It was crucial even, for an antidote for one poison could very well be a poison itself. So, the first thing taught was to make the poisoned person retch out the contents of his stomach in an effort to slow down and lessen the poison's initial severity.

Knowing it was a matter of life and death, Legolas could not afford to be gentle. He opened the boy's mouth and slipped his fingers inside, pressing it up on the soft palate. He went back to the back of the mouth, feeling till he finally hit the back of the throat.

Elfwine jerked violently and Legolas quickly turned him so that the boy could vomit out its contents.

"Hush," he murmured, taking the boy in his arms when it was finished to calm him. "I am sorry, youngling. You needed to do it."

"What was it?" Elfwine's voice was hoarse whisper. Not wanting to put the child down, (and unwilling to do so himself), he got up while still carrying the boy and then got the water skin to offer to him.

"There was something bad in the water." He lied. "Kinnell did not know it."

_~I do not think it is wise to lie about this.~ _Thranduil murmured his objection.

_~Father, he had recently got attacked by his own men that his father trusted him to, watched his nurse die in front of him, poisoned by the only man in my company, and being failed by a sworn uncle who promised to protect him.~ _Legolas said, his voice a little sharp.

_~Peace, my child. I am merely saying that there are other things at work here. It does not seem appropriate, given that he will find out sooner or later what really transpired.~_

_~It will be dealt with in time.~ _Legolas replied.

"What is wrong with him?" Elfwine asked weakly, his eyes resting on the lord's limp frame.

"He had drunk the water too. Do not worry, he is not in much danger." Legolas said. _Yet, _he added silently. "But you must drink this." Legolas continued, holding the open vial up to Elfwine's lips. The boy took a cautious sip before wrinkling his nose, but Legolas did not relent. And seeing the elf's seriousness, the boy did not protest much.

_~Will it work?~_

_~I do not know. The problem lies in the fact that the traitor had placed enough poison in the drink to kill a man. For a man, such a dose would kill him in twelve hours, but for Elfwine it had been merely an hour. The antidote will counteract as much as it could, lengthening his life span in his poisoned state but-~_

"Water," Elfwine asked, cutting off Legolas' silent conversation. The elf shook his head firmly.

"Not so soon after taking in the antidote, little one. Perhaps later."

_~But?~ _Thranduil prodded.

_~There will be enough poison in the system to do some damage.~_

_~But how long do you think the boy has?~_

_~Three to four days, at the most.~_

Thranduil was silent for a moment.

_~You have to get him here.~ _Thranduil said adamantly. _~I will notify the Rangers for your coming, have the healing wards ready-~_

_~It is a seven days' ride from Rohan to Eryn Lasgelen and I have Riders at my tail! The boy will not live so long, that I can guarantee. Moreover, my supplies will not last for so long. Stopping to eat will only make our journey longer.~_

_~Then I will send Rangers out immediately to meet you halfway.~_

_~Out in the open? That is not what Elfwine needs, he will be far too gone by then and bringing him back to life will be too difficult in the Wild.~_

_~What of Imladris? The sons of Elrond-~_

_~Are inadequate when it comes to Eryn Lasgelen's poisons. And so is Aragorn. Elrond himself admitted that our mysteries were not completely known to him, a fact that we encouraged.~ _Legolas finished. He heard Elfwine give a whimper of pain, the poison finally settling in. Legolas hoisted him up in his arms, got up and started to walk in an attempt to soothe him.

_~But I think there is a beeter way, father. I can take the boy to Ithilien, where my company of Rangers is stationed. We have our supply of poisons and their antidotes, our healers make sure of it.~_

_~You are mad. You will have to go around the mountain range, passing by Minas Tirith to go to Ithilien-~_

_~I will call my company to meet me halfway.~_

_~Now look who is making plans of treating the child in the Wild.~_

_~It is much better than taking him halfway to Eryn Lagelen. The chances for his life are much more if we make for Gondor still.~_

_~And how, pray tell, are you going to get the Rangers informed to this?~_

_~I will ask Fion to provide me with help in the same way I am talking to you, father.~_

There was a moment of silence before laughter vibrated through the link.

_~Fion will throw a fit! You know how he is whenever you get yourself in a mess.~_

_~I did not get myself into anything!~ _Legolas protested indignantly. _~Trouble always found me!~_

_~Peace, my son! Now, when do you suppose you will talk to him?~_

_~As soon as possible. Perhaps once you and I finish our conversation.~_

_~Do so, then. And take care of that traitor.~_

_~Gladly… with most pleasure.~_

_~Good. I will see you later then.~_

Thranduil's choice of words instantly made him suspicious.

_~You are not coming here, are you?~_

_~I do not know what you are talking about.~_

With that, Thranduil cut off the link.

Legolas looked down and realized that Elfwine had drifted off in a light sleep. His forehead was wrinkled in mute pain but the boy was asleep nevertheless. He settled him down on the soft ground gently, covering him with his cloak as he did so. the cloak was a gift from Éowyn, who fussed over him like the other wives of his sworn brothers ever since his sea-longing had aggravated to an unbearable level.

"You get cold easily." She had commented when she fixed the cloak around his shoulders. He had only raised a brow back then, for withdrawn as he was, he definitely never felt too cold for such a heavy cloak. But now it came to a use, protecting her nephew.

Straightening, he made sure his bow, quiver and knives were in place and within easy reach. He kept close to the boy. He heard a dim groan and realized Kinnell was coming to. Turning, he walked back to the man and grabbed his collar before hitting him solidly on his temple.

"_I told you I will deal with you later." _Legolas said.

Getting up again, he let his eyes search the plains. Then he pushed his mind forward to find that one presence he wanted to speak to.

_~Fion, I need to talk to you.~_

oOo

Thranduil's eyes snapped open. He put down his quill and got up from his seat resolutely. Thorontur looked up from his desk, bewildered.

"_My lord?"_ He asked, getting up as well. He was taken aback by Thranduil's sudden alertness, after seeing him for weeks succumbing slowly to the sea-longing in his heart.

"_What day is it?_" Thranduil asked, going to the window to peer down upon his people bustling below in the courtyard in front of his Halls. Thorontur looked at him in disbelief.

"_Thranduil, you are going mad."_ Thorontur declared finally. _"You have been asking ridiculous questions for weeks!"_

"_Thorontur,"_ Thranduil said, whipping about and grabbing his advisor by the shoulder. _"What day is it?"_

Thorontur opened his mouth to reply but Thranduil cut him off.

"_Wait. Do not answer me."_

"_As my King commands."_ Thorontur replied sardonically, mirroring Thranduil's another well-known and dear friend, Commander Fion of the Ranger division of Eryn Lasgelen.

Thranduil, on the other hand, paid him no attention as he walked to the study door, opened it and left. Thorontur, truly worried now, followed him.

"_What has gotten into you?"_ Thorontur hissed, following the king into his private chambers. Thranduil shrugged off his jeweled robe and tossed it towards him, who caught it cleanly.

Dressed in a shirt, tunic and breeches, Thranduil went behind the screens.

"_Do me a favor, would you? Go down to the kitchens and get them to prepare food adequate for a long ride. And then assemble an escort of fifteen or twenty Warriors for me. And also get my horse ready."_

"_Where are you going?"_ Thorontur demanded, draping the king's robe on a chair.

"_For a ride, of course."_ Thranduil said, finally reappearing. He was finishing off tying the leather straps of his armor. Some of them were under his arms and not within his reach. Thorontur noticed and came up to help.

"_You are a tad bit overdressed for a simple 'ride', Thranduil." _Thorontur remarked, purposely tightening on strap a little too much to show his inner ire. He looked at his friend to see a glimmer of amusement in his now very alert gray eyes.

"_Do you wish me to get anything for you from Minas Tirith?" _Thranduil asked with a tinge of politeness mixed with laughter, thus making his intentions known. Thorontur would have snorted if he had not been raised to be a perfect advisor. He merely kept an impassive face, but tilted his head back in a challenge.

"_You and your son," _Thorontur answered finally. _"With me at Spring. I expect you both to attend the festivals and then later join me with my family for dinner. I will take no excuses. So," _Thorontur leaned forward, twitching lips visible. _"Try not to get yourself killed."_

"_And Fion said you had no sense of humor." _Thranduil replied, taking his sword offered by his advisor.

"_You can tell him that I know of the time when he went drunk and-"_

"_I will." _Thranduil interrupted. _"Now, weren't you supposed to be going down to the kitchens?"_

Stepping back, Thorontur gave a deep bow before leaving. When he closed the door behind him, he shook his head.

He was far older than Thranduil. He had been Oropher's closest friend when they had come from the Sacking of Doriáth to the then Greenwood. After his death, he went on to serve Thranduil, developing a friendship coming from mutual work. He had become quite used to strange things done by Oropher and his line. Thus, he was only thankful at Thranduil's higher spirits.

Back in the king's chambers, Thranduil laid a trembling hand on his sword hanging from his belt.

_Nobody will hurt his child in his presence._

**~S~**

_**Author's Note:**_

_What do you think?  
_

_You can rant, I don't mind. I really want to know what you think. :P_

**_List of OCs:_**

_Calhoun- warrior_

_Kinnell- crowned_

**_Replies to reviews: (My replies will be shorter than normal because I do not want to give anything away. :))_**

_cheekybeak:_

_Thank you. I am glad it was believable and everyone stayed within character. As for what Calhoun is planning, I will say neither yay nor nay. :P_

_sarathestarkidranger:_

_Calhoun is definitely a twisted, admittedly smart kind of person. (I made him that way, lol). _

_As for the elves and crime, you will have to wait for the coming chapter._

_Eldariel:_

_I am afraid I am not going with the cliche part. That much I can hint. :D_

_Ilovevollyball:_

_Thanks. I am glad you and your sister understood. And tell your sister I don't bite. :P She can write to me as well._

_Again, I do remember her asking tips for writing but ask me after 23rd of Sep, would you? I will hopefully make up a decent sized answer then._

_As for what is there in the story, You will have to wait and see. :)_

_aronoiiel:_

_Yeah, I agree. :(_

_Can you do me a favor? You seem to know when I should write more on gory details and when I should not. Can you be a kind of a regulator for the story? Tell me if I was overdoing it and that kind of stuff. I do not want it to get too out of hand. Just tell me what it looks like from a reader's point of view. If you cannot (because I know you are very busy and everyone has a life, lol), then I completely understand. There is absolutely no problem in it. :)_


	9. Dagger Spins The Events

**_Author's Note:_**

I think I forgot to tell you guys who Fion and Dorian are. Both of them are OCs.

Fion is one of the seven Commanders of the Rangers' division of the Eryn Lasgelen Army. He is a close friend of Thranduil and had apprenticed both Legolas and Dorian at the same time. His personality is a little strict and no-nonsense though he had softened considerably when Legolas and Dorian were his apprentices.

Dorian is Legolas' best friend and childhood company. He is also a Ranger and works both as a spy and also as a scout. He belongs to Thranduil's elite guard and has been his personal strategist because he knew the enemies' movements by spying on them.

Both will play an important role in this story.

**~S~**

Chapter 8

_~Fion, I need to talk to you.~_

Fion truly should not have reacted the way he did; after all, he was used to finding his old apprentices in some sort of trouble every now and then. But the words caught him so out of surprise that he jerked, causing his chair to lose balance. Soon, the Commander of the Rangers found himself in an undignified heap on the floor.

_~Boooooooooooooooooooooy!~ _Fion growled as was his trademark, getting up and straightening his clothes.

_~Fion-~_

_~Can you not let me have a moment of peace? I leave you for a few months, just a few months-~_

_~Fion-~_

_~And you call me abruptly, having no thought about my poor old age and my tiring bones that have to put up with you nuisances-~_

_~I think you mean 'your nuisances'.~_

_~Nay, I meant what I said! You do not have a nuisance because you are a nuisance! And so is that friend of yours, Dorián!~_

_~Fion-~_

_~And here I was, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet, without you hooligan jumping out in your usual impulsive form, never giving me a moment of respite-~_

_~You hardly ever agree to the fact that you are old, Fion.~_

_~Well, I do now.~ _FIon snapped, running his fingers through his tresses, that were for once out of their strict braids. _~Legolas, you pain in the-~_

_~I need your help.~_

The quiet, subdued voice of his normally lively former apprentice instantly alerted Fion.

_~What happened, youngling?~_

Legolas sighed and told him everything from the beginning. Fion listened attentively, occasionally pacing the length of his room in his increasing distress.

_~Where are you now? You need to come here immediately.~_

_~I doubt Elfwine would be able to travel yet. You know how this poison works.~_

Fion knew it indeed. By the people of lake-town, the plant from which this particular poison was derived from was known as 'Goldleaf', an elegant name for a poison so lethal. The plant grew at the edge of the enchanted river, its roots deep with the river banks where it took its water from the river. The plant was black in color, as were many other plants of Eryn Lasgelen, but in the dark, the veins of its leaves glowed golden. For many, it seemed beautiful, but the elves knew of its danger. The sap of this plant was clear and sticky, its effect was excruciating pain in the entire body for a few hours, then followed by numbness, and then came the loss of control of the limbs before the patient went into a sleep that seemed like death. And the last stage was when the breathing tract collapses upon itself, killing its patient through suffocation. It was a grim death, a horrible death.

_~You do not have much of a choice, Legolas.~_

_~I know. I was wondering if I should give him another drug to make him sleep-~_

_~Absolutely not! You know that a sleeping drug numbs the pain. In this poison, it will only bring his death closer.~_

_~There has to be something, Fion! I can't watch him like this.~_

_~Like what?~_

Briefly, Legolas opened his mind enough to let Fion see what he saw. On the grassy ground, a boy of barely seven summers writhed in pain, voice hoarse from screaming. Tears seeped out from tightly closed eyes. Legolas' hands hovered above him, not touching him, but not allowing him to roll too far either.

Fion pulled out immediately, his hands shaking. Seeing grown elves and men in pain in the heat of a battle is one thing, but seeing a child in the same state was another. And after his only son had died brutally at the hands of orcs an Age ago, he could not bear the sight of any child in pain.

_~I am sorry.~ _Legolas said softly. _~I have brought up bitter memories up to you.~_

_~You should learn not reading other people's minds, boy.~ _Fion tried to snap at him as he usually did but found himself deceived when his tone had softened. Deciding to change his tact, he racked his mind.

_~You cannot heal, can you?~_

_~Thank you for pointing out my shortcomings!~ _Legolas said, sounding annoyed.

_~That is not a shortcoming, boy. Don't carry that tone with me.~ _Fion said absently, turning on his heel to pace the floor again. _~Try to block his thoughts towards the pain. I recall you can do that for others.~_

_~I can. Wait.~_

There was a moment of silence before Legolas spoke again.

_~He seems better now. But this is tiring work. The pain is coming from everywhere. It will tire me out as well before the numbness starts to set in.~_

_~If it is too much for you to take, then let go. It will do neither him nor you any good if you tire out.~_

_~I can take it.~ _Legolas said stubbornly.

Fion sighed, but decided to let it pass. Legolas was much like his father in many aspects. He had inherited his father's will and steadfastness.

_~How did the man know of your satchel? Our poisons are a closely guarded secret.~_

_~That was what I was wondering.~_

_~He may have a source. Did you speak to him yet?~_

_~Nay, I did not. I keep hitting him over the head to keep him asleep for a while.~_

Fion kept back his grimace.

_~You know, I cannot understand how he managed to open the satchel and take the poisons.~_

_~You are thinking of the enchantments, are you not? I was thinking about them as well.~_

Eryn Lasgelen had elves that were known for the queer magic. It was queer because it was not common. The strength of it varied from person to person. some of them could use their magic to heal or to speak to their surroundings. Others could use it pull somebody into sleep, a famous case of which came from the time when Thorin Oakenshield was put to sleep when he had entered one of the clearings of the elves. Others could use it to cast protective charms and spells on things that would not allow anyone else save the owner to use those enchanted items.

And so it was. Thranduil's Halls were guarded by both elves and their spells. The spells were decades and decades old with one spell layering over another, making his fortress a stronghold and a safe haven.

From there, the Rangers had devised their own protective charms and spells that they placed over the bags and stores of poisons and their antidotes. They were jealous of it, and proud of it at the same time.

But here, a man had managed to get into Legolas' satchel, something the elves were sure that no man was capable of.

_~He had help from someone else.~ _Fion said finally.

_~I was thinking the same thing. Whoever he is, that person must be well-learnt when it comes to magic. You know we just need to say the word and the satchel opens.~_

_~That is something that can be discussed later. What I want to know is how in Arda are we going to manage Elfwine's treatment?~_

_~I want you to come to the border. Stay on Gondorian soil and bring with you tents and healers and also guards. All of them must be elves. I am not going to trust any mortal after this anytime soon.~_

_~Not even your sworn brothers?~_

Legolas did not reply.

_~Fine, then. I will do as you say. Anything else?~_

_~Yes. Speak to Faramir. Have him place double the amount of guards around Éowyn and Elboron.~_

_~Faramir's family? Who would want to hurt them?~_

_~Éowyn is Éomer's sister, Fion. If this is what I think it is, they will get attacked. I have no doubts.~_

_~Fine, I will do that. And I am getting Faramir to come with me. Maybe he will be of some use. And I am alerting Estel as well.~_

_~Aye, do that.~ _Legolas then had an idea. _~Wait, I want you to do another thing for me.~_

He told him Fion his plan.

_~Oh, of course,~ _The veteran said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. _~I will do it all. Why not bring a fleet of horses as well?~_

_~That is a great idea!~_

_~You are insane.~_

_~I take it from my father.~_

_~Bah! I will believe that. Now go. And do me a favor; make that man sorry for his crimes for me.~_

_~Oh, I will.~_

It was only when Legolas cut off his link that Fion sat down heavily on his seat.

"_And take care of yourself, youngling." _He whispered in the quiet room.

oOo

There were no songs around the campfire when they settled down for the night.

The men had pitched up their tents, and took care of their horses in a subdued manner. There was no laughter or chatter. They ate their food quietly, not speaking in any tone louder than a whisper. It felt as if they were back in the days of the Ring, when they hunted orcs, wargs and wild men that had invaded their lands when Saruman was alive.

Éothain shivered.

He sat in front of the fire, his half-filled mug forgotten in his clasped hands. There was a chill in the air, which was the reason why he still kept his woolen cloak over his shoulders as he stared into the fire. He had taken off his helmet though, his hair shining gold-red in the light of the camp fire. The whispers of the men and the crackle of the fire were making the atmosphere tenser, and he felt uneasiness settle into his bones. Over him, the stars shone brightly on the dark sky.

_Something seemed wrong._

But he could not place it. It was there, right in his grasp yet it slipped from his fingers every single time.

What was it?

Éothain sighed and raised his hands. He heard a loud thud and looked down in surprise. Strange, he thought vaguely. He did not remember taking up a mug for a drink. He shook his head again, not meeting the stares of the men who turned when they heard the noise.

What was it again?

Giving a low growl of frustration, he swooped down and grabbed the mug and got up. If he could not relax enough, he might as well take a walk to clear his head.

The plain was dark in the night, though the stars did give some sort of a light. The shadows lengthened where the tents were at the edge of the campsite, away from the camp fires. He found his tent, and entered it only to place his mug inside before leaving again.

He could not believe that Legolas would do such a thing as kill Éomer's men, he reflected. Then again, Legolas would not kill 'any' men save without a good reason. Then again, he thought, as he absently nodded towards a man who saluted him, the arrows and the wounds of the dead said otherwise. If Legolas would not be found, Éomer would be forced to only work with the evidence. And the evidence suggested the elf was an oath-breaker.

But it was absurd! Éothain thought angrily. He knew the elf, known him for years now, and not once did he witness anything in him that suggested any of these accusations.

So what had really happened at the campsite that night?

Éothain gave another vent of frustration. He looked up and realized he was well out of the camp and turned on his heel to make his way back to the campsite.

His suspicions were there, though for some reason he could not voice them to Éomer. Actually, he corrected himself, he did voice his suspicions but it was as if Éomer would not listen to them. Perhaps a proper hit on the head might bring back the king. Éothain snorted in amusement in spite of his dark mood.

Whatever it was, he hoped nothing else would happen that would go against Legolas' favor.

After all, the rule in Rohan was like for like; wealth for wealth, food for food, blow for blow… and a life for a life.

_Madness._

oOo

"Your Majesty?"

Lothíriel looked up in surprise to find one of her handmaidens looking at her in concern. Her hands trembled slightly and she put down her needle and thread hastily. She had no wish to appear weak now that her husband had left her to act as a reagent. Unfortunately, the handmaiden noticed the slight tremble in her hands but did not comment.

"Yes, Thanwen?" Lothíriel asked, proud that her voice did not hitch, though she had to admit she did not like how high-pitched it was.

"The fallen are to be buried, my lady." Thanwen said hesitantly.

Lothíriel looked down at her needlework again that rested upon her lap. The funeral, indeed! Or rather… funerals. She had listened to the quiet sobbing in the Golden Hall for hours now, and they were to bury the dead Riders with the honor they deserve for dying in defending their heir and prince.

Still, she could not believe that Legolas would do such a thing.

Or would he?

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Thanwen, I am coming." She said, getting up from her seat and placing her things upon the table. Thanwen nodded uncertainly and turned, waiting for the queen to leave first. Lothíriel left with her head held high. Behind her, she heard a quiet thud as Thanwen closed the door.

She sensed her royal guards falling into place right behind her as they matched her pace. When Éomer had left, he insisted that their guards remained with her at all times. Something was afoot here. She honestly did not see the need. After all, the danger was far and not at the Hall's doorstep. But still, she had accepted his reasoning.

The Hall was dark when she entered it, with the light only coming from one fire. In her heart, she felt the need to light more fires but strangely, her mind and mouth were not cooperating. Ah, well.

The people were gathered there. The litters for the dead were placed in a straight line leading to the open doors of the Hall. They were washed and in full colors of the Rider uniform, with arrow wounds washed and hidden.

"Begin the procession." She said, her voice resonating through the room.

Sturdy Riders bent down to grab the litters, four Riders with each litter. They were followed by the loved ones of the dead, some sobbing and others expressionless, their pain hidden deep inside.

Lothíriel followed more slowly, her maids and guards walking behind her. Cerdric lingered at the side, walking much slower because of his age. Lanterns were lit and carried as they followed the procession. Most of the time, funerals were placed in the morning but Lothíriel did not feel so well and she had wished to participate in the funeral. It was kind of the families to wait for her, she thought distantly.

Halfway down, the women began to sing. It was a haunting melody, forcing chills to go down Lothíriel's spine. Her fingers trembled where both hands were clasped, and she was thankful that the fabric of her long wide sleeves would hide her trembling.

When they reached the graves of the Riders, the procession had stopped. Here, the ground was made ready to receive the new sleepers. The songs were louder now, and the women wept more freely. But Lothíriel still felt nothing.

It was only when she saw the men cover the bodies with earth did she react to her surroundings. Her head lowered, feeling as she was burying her son along with the Riders.

_Little did she know that she was feeling the same desperation as Éowyn had felt._

She raised her head up again and watched the men level the freshly turned earth on the new graves.

Then a sudden chill ran up her spine, as if something evil awaited her. behind her she heard a very real and bloodcurdling scream. She turned swiftly.

Too late.

Pain seared deep into her side. Looking down in mild surprise and horror, she saw a knife embedded where the pain originated from. She watched as the dagger twisted, making the pain more intense. Looking up to see who assailed her, Lothíriel's eyes widened in shock as she gazed straight into the eyes of one her royal guards.

Another guard was trying to pull him away, his face a mask of fury and surprise.

"Brandon, are you mad? You traitor!"

But Brandon held on to the queen.

"The revolution has begun." Brandon whispered to her before he finally let go. the other royal guards pushed him down and kept him under strong grip. Lothíriel felt her legs give out under her, the pain being too much for her mind to function. She felt Cerdric grab her and lower her to the ground, heard him bark orders to her maids to find a healer, order the men to carry her up to the Hall.

In the confusion, she felt tears come to her eyes.

"My son…"

oOo

A lone figure stood at the edge of forest, slightly away from the camp he had made. The fire cast a red glow at his back.

Clad in green and brown that he always preferred, the figure kept his gaze lowered. The stars above him made his golden hair look tinged in silver. He wore no cloak; he had used it to cover the child under his care.

Legolas stared at the ground. The green grass was dark in the night. He could hear the animals of the night scurrying about the forest. There was a fox nearby, wondering if the child was worth the assault, but the animal retreated when it noticed the attentive figure that was obviously an adult. Above him, an owl hooted in the trees. There was a sound of scratching over the uneven ground as a rabbit darted into its burrow, safe from the predators.

Legolas gave a sigh and looked up. The stars were there, scattered on the black sky and shining down upon him. He saw Earendil, the evening star and the moon that shown brightly down on him.

Legolas raised his hands up and uttered words from his lips that showed the distress in his heart, "Earendil!" He cried. "Would that my brothers were beside me in my time of need! Would that Gimli were here, if no one else could come to my aid!"

But the star remained silent, and Legolas knew he was on his own, with an ailing child. He sighed and turned away, his blue eyes resting on the small figure curled into Legolas' cloak. The child seemed so lost, so small in the cloak.

He walked to Elfwine and rested his hand on the boy's head, noting how one hand clutched tightly on the folds of the cloak as if looking for some support or help. His jaw tightened. He had been begging for an adventure for the past few months. He did not one like this. This was no joke, this was very real.

Getting up and walking in wide strides, he went to Kinnell, who was bound hand and foot. He was awake, with the end of his own cloak gagging him.

"You and I need to talk." Legolas said through gritted teeth. "And if you play games with me, I am warning you that I am not… patient."

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

I am a little pressed for time because I have exams coming up and I will not be able to answer any reviews. MY sincerest apologies but I have a lot of things going on in my life at the moment.

But do tell me what you think and what you expect the story will lead to. It is a wonderful treat and I absolutely love to hear your thoughts on how it went.

**List of OCs:**

Calhoun- warrior

Kinnell- crowned

**Announcements:**

-The name for the sequel of "Over Time, We Are Brothers" has been decided. :)

-Its name is "Building Ithilien". It will be as long as OTWAB but will focus more on action and adventure than politics.

-Also, I am taking down "Gardens of Ithilien" because I want to turn it into... well, you will see. :)

-As for OTWAB, it should start getting posted as a NEW STORY in its final edited and updated form soon. I am adding a lot of new chapters and taking down some others because some of the reviewers had pointed out oocness which I agreed with. Also, it will follow the book version of LOTR as this story is also following the book version.

-I have two more storylines that I may or may not pursue. One will focus on Legolas' and Dorian's childhood and their apprenticeship with Fion in the Second Age. The other one will focus on Dorian's work as a spy during the War of the Ring and the events that occurred in Mirkwood (Since we do not know how it all happened and it will be a *gap-filler*)

-I have decided to leave ffn after that, thought it may be a couple of years before I actually do. Writing is a lot of fun, but I am starting to realize the strain of working with multiple plots and sub-plots. :P

**Good? Bad? Let me know!**


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